If Tomorrow Never Comes
by YouHaveLovelyHair
Summary: Becker's past catches up with him. Lots of Becker back story. Includes all core ARC team. Anomalies, terrorists, bombs, MI6, traitors, betrayal and Jecker/Conby/Memily. CHAPTER 31 NOW UPDATED TO INCLUDE A SCENE FROM THE ORCHARD! :D
1. The Nightmare

**A/N OK this is weird, but this story came to me after hearing Ronan Keating on the radio this morning (hence the title). Its a Becker centred fic, but will include all core ARC characters and a few of my own creations! Lots of action, implied Jecker and hopefully actually Jecker by the end! It gives a little backstory to Becker, explaining why he is the Becker that we love. The first two chapters I originally wrote (this afternoon!) as one chapter but then realised it was far too long and so split it in two. Please review and let me know what you think! :-)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my story and OCs. But if I did own Primeval, Becker wouldn't need a uniform! Hehehehehe ;-)**

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><p><em>It was dark and surprisingly cold. The dust was whipped up by the wind, making it necessary for them to wear scarves covering their faces, their hats pulled down until only their eyes were visible. They had accomplished much over the last week and the young Captain and his men had had a beer at Camp Bastion to celebrate. Now they snuck across town to share their good fortune with the one person who had assisted them against the odds. Becker was grinning as he banged on the door to her small, shabby home.<em>

_"Shamsi!" he shouted, more than a little tipsy. His beautiful, beautiful Shamsi, she with the smooth, black hair and deep, brown eyes and soft, plump lips. God, he loved her! "Shamsi!" he called again._

_His squad snickered as his calls went unanswered._

_"She's moved on to the next one, mate!" his Lieutenant chuckled._

_Becker turned and glared at him, worry now beginning to worm its way in to his beer-addled brain. He held up his hand to silence them, his body now on full alert. Carefully, he examined the door and realised that it showed signs of force. He frowned and pushed against it, gaining entry to the house with much less effort than should have been needed. The sight that met his eyes turned his stomach._

_The interior of the house was virtually destroyed. Shamsi didn't have much, but what she did have was now smashed beyond repair. The house had been redecorated in blood, her blood, and his name was painted on the stone wall opposite the door in blood red Arabic. Amidst it all, lying on her side on the mud floor, was Shamsi, his beloved Shamsi, semi-clothed, beaten and dead, oh so very dead._

For the first time in almost two years, Becker woke up screaming. He thrashed against the duvet, hands gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

"Shamsi!" someone shouted. His eyes flashed open and it took a moment or two for him to completely come to his senses and realise that he was the one shouting.

He sat up upright, muscles all tensed and contracted, and stared around his familiar bedroom, so different from the mud-stone house in Afghanistan. He was sweating profusely and yet he shivered. His breath was hard and ragged and his hair was wet and sticky with sweat. He pulled his hand over his head and down his face trying to rid the images he had witnessed from his mind. It had been years since he'd dreamt of that last tour in Afghanistan. Why was it disturbing him now? He rubbed his hand over his face again and decided on a nice hot shower. Swinging his long legs over the bed, he stood and walked, naked, to the bathroom.

Becker let the hot water wash over him, the hard jets bouncing off the muscles of his shoulders, un-knotting the tension in them. Feeling the fear and guilt ebb away with the heat of the water, he sighed heavily and resolved to face the day as he had every other day since the incident; military mask on along with the uniform. Stepping out of the shower, Becker towelled dry and donned the all black uniform of the ARC and his impassive "nothing will get me through this" face and headed off to work.

His ARC pick-up truck was parked in its usual spot in the basement car park of his apartment building. He slid into the driver's seat and pulled away with a squeal of tyres, hoping for a busy day to take his mind off his nightmares. He'd only driven a few metres before he got the feeling he was being watched. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he became distracted by a movement in the rear of the car, not quite visible due to the dim lighting of the car park.

"Keep driving Captain Becker and don't turn around," said a voice, familiar to Becker, one that he had not heard for a very long time.

The shape on the backseat moved into view slowly and it took all Becker's skills of concentration to keep the car on the road and not veer into the curb in shock.

"Colonel Rider, sir!" he exclaimed, eyes wide, eyebrows raised.

"Hello Becker. Long time. And its Commander now, actually," said Commander Rider quietly, giving Becker time to regain his composure. Rider had been Becker's Commanding Officer in Afghanistan and Becker wondered briefly if his nightmare and his old CO's presence here were connected. The Commander was in his fifties, had a non-descript face but well lined, brown hair cut short and brown expressive eyes. He was dressed in inconspicuous civvies and looked as if he was ready to blend into a crowd and disappear.

Becker slowed the car and looked for a place to park.

"No, Becker, keep driving and don't attract attention," Rider insisted urgently.

Becker inclined his head slightly and sped up again. Worried now, he made eye contact with the Commander in the rearview mirror.

"What's this about, sir?" he asked tersely.

"Just follow my instructions and we'll talk in a minute," said Rider. He reeled off a list of directions, like an over-active Sat-Nav, and then slid back into the shadows of the backseat, hidden from the outside by the dark, tinted windows. Becker followed the instructions to the letter and stopped precisely at the last set of co-ordinates he was given, knowing there was no room for error but not yet understanding why. He turned to look in the back.

"Face forward, Captain!" order Rider, making Becker snap to attention, facing forwards. "Pick up your phone as if you are answering a call, then we can talk." Rider told him and Becker complied.

"Seriously, sir, what the hell is going on?" he asked once the phone was pressed against his ear.

"One thing at a time," said Rider, quietly. "Its good to see you, Becker."

"You too, sir. Its been a long time since Afghanistan. You still with Special Forces?"

"No, I'm MI6 now, mate," responded Rider and smiled as Becker raised an eyebrow. "That's partly why I'm here. We have a problem. Or, more specifically, you have a problem, Becker."

"Which is?" Becker's face remained impassive.

"Omar Kabir," Rider stated simply.

Becker started and a brief look of panic crossed his face. So brief that, if Commander Rider hadn't known the Captain so well, he probably would have missed it.

"We've received a report from Afghanistan. There's been a breakout from the prison near Kandahar. Three hundred detainees made a run for it about a week ago. The Americans have rounded up about half of them, but the rest have vanished including -" he paused.

"Omar Kabir," Becker finished for him, dryly.

Commander Rider nodded. "And he's coming for you."

Becker's eyes widened. "What makes you think that?" he demanded.

Rider sighed. "Becker, you were instrumental in his capture and detention -"

Flashes of Shamsi, whose information had proved invaluable in the capture of Kabir, distracted Becker for a moment.

"- a fact Kabir is well aware of." Rider continued. "He is a man who takes holding grudges to a whole new level and he's had five years in a prison cell to ponder how he's going to exact his revenge -"

"I thought he'd already done that," muttered Becker, not realising he had spoken aloud.

Rider's eyes narrowed. "Did you really think Shamsi would be the end of it, Becker? He's out for revenge - Shamsi was just the First Act. You know as well as I do, there's plenty more to come."

Becker's face went grim and still at the mention of Shamsi. And he knew Rider was right.

"He left us one other clue that you were his target," continued the Commander. "A note, written in Arabic on the walls of his cell. 'Tell Becker I'm coming'."

Becker laughed shortly. "He never was renowned for his subtlety," he snorted, then paused and frowned.

"Hang on, this happened a week ago? How come you're only telling me this now?"

"Becker, you know how hard it is to get intelligence out of Afghanistan. Its damned difficult getting a straight answer from the Americans!" protested Rider.

"So why hasn't he hit me already?" asked Becker, realising he didn't want to know the answer, even though he already did.

"Becker, you of all people know his MO. He's stalking your life, learning your patterns, finding out who is important to you."

Jess danced her way into Becker's thoughts. Beautiful, sweet, quirky Jess, whom he could easily fall in love with, if he hadn't already. Becker sucked in a loud breath.

"And he'll get to me through them, right?"

Rider nodded. "There's something else though. We've got a leak at MI6. Files have gone missing, specifically your file, including all the classified details of your current assignment."

"What the hell!" exclaimed Becker angrily.

"Sorry mate. But we have to put two and two together and conclude that these details are now in the hands of Kabir."

Becker rubbed his hand over his face to hide his despair. The guy was a fundamentalist terrorist. How was he supposed to protect the ARC against that?

"We also have to conclude that he is watching you, or having you watched, and that he is going to target those closest to you before torturing you to death." Rider added.

"Thanks for the happy outlook," grunted Becker.

"I admit its not great," replied Rider. "But we have a plan."

Becker raised his eyebrows. "We do?"

"You are the one who tracked and captured him before. And since its you and your loved ones he's after, you are the one with the most motivation for this operation. Therefore, the Powers That Be have volunteered you for the mission - to find Kabir before he finds you," explained Rider.

Becker frowned deeply.

"And how am I to accomplish that whilst protecting everyone I know?" he asked coldly.

Rider grinned mirthlessly.

"We're going to kill you first!"

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><p><strong>So, there you have it. Not sure about the rank bit. I made Rider a Colonel when he was in the army but now he's at MI6 he was given the rank of Commander (poetic licence please!). Reviews please! Pretty please? :D<strong>


	2. The Death

**A/N Thanks for reviewing. Here's the next chapter. Lots of chat but hopefully it will set up the action! Hang on to your hats - Becker's officially dead at the end of this chapter :-(**

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><p>Becker jolted in his seat. "What?" he gaped.<p>

"We're going to blow you up, make it look like someone from Kabir's terrorist cell jumped the gun in the hope that it may lead Kabir to make a mistake," Rider told him.

Becker shook his head. "That man doesn't make mistakes," he muttered.

"He does, you caught him before," said Rider.

"And Shamsi paid for it," Becker reminded the older man, darkly.

The Commander continued as if he hadn't heard Becker's comment.

"Being dead releases you from your other responsibilities, Becker, allowing you to do that which is necessary to track down Kabir."

"And my team? My mother?" asked Becker quietly.

"They must believe you really are dead, otherwise the ruse won't work. That's partly why we're going to blow you up - they won't be able to identify the body, they'll not be enough left. You'll be identified by DNA - and we can switch you for any old body parts we can find." Rider's off-hand manner riled Becker.

"You know my mother only just lost my father last year, right?" he asked softly but menacingly.

Rider made an attempt to placate him.

"We have a special plan for her, Becker," he said reassuringly. "She'll have to believe and grieve like everyone else but we won't keep her suffering for too long. After a week, the intention is to make it appear she has taken a holiday to get over everything - that's when we'll bring her in to an MI6 safe house and tell her everything."

Becker stared hard at him and snarled through gritted teeth. "You expect me to trust the safety of my friends, of my mother, to MI6 - the same people who struggle to get correct intel and who can't even keep highly classified documentation safe?"

"Becker," said Rider, gently. "You have no choice." Then, seeing the resignation in Becker's face, he tried to reassure him again. "I will oversee the whole operation personally. There are only two people in the world who know the full plan - myself and my PA, Penny, back at MI6."

Becker's eyebrows raised again.

"Does she know what she's letting herself in for?" he queried.

"She's ex-military - she knows the risks," confirmed Rider.

Becker sighed and slumped in his seat.

"One last thing, Captain, and I'm afraid I have to ask."

"Ask what?" muttered Becker, trying to digest the enormity of the task Rider had set him.

"Is there anyone at the ARC who may be at particular risk?"

Becker jolted upright again, shocked. "What do you know about the ARC?" he demanded.

The older man smirked. "Becker, I'm MI6. My clearance is higher than yours." He paused, then pressed his question further. "So?"

Becker glared at him. "So - what?"

"Is there anyone at the ARC who may be at greater risk?"

Becker shook his head. "I don't -"

Rider sighed heavily. "Is there anyone there with whom you have a personal relationship?"

Becker looked guilty just for a second before the mask enveloped his face again. Jess, Jess, Jess.

"No," he said blandly. "There's no-one."

"Really?" Rider was surprised.

Becker stared at him with blank eyes. "I don't do personal relationships. After Shamsi, I made it a rule that I would never put anyone at risk again."

Rider nodded, understanding. "What about friends? You must have friends."

Becker snorted. "I'm told I'm unapproachable and aloof. I don't do friends either. Close acquaintances is the best I can do I'm afraid. Just make sure you keep an eye on Lester, Anderson, Temple, Maitland, Merchant and Parker. And maybe Lt. Carter - he's my 2IC and a good man."

Rider nodded and made a note of all the names.

"Who will be my replacement?" asked Becker suddenly.

"Captain John Hutchens - I believe you know him?"

Becker nodded slowly. "Yes, I know Hutch. He was with me in Iraq. He'll do a good job. Tell him -" he paused and sucked in a deep breath. "Tell him to go easy on them. They won't necessarily be upset by my death but they won't like him nonetheless."

"What makes you say they won't be upset by your death?" asked Rider curiously, frowning.

Becker ground his teeth. "Like I said, I don't do friendships. I'm a soldier - soldiers die."

"Very well," sighed Rider. "I'll add that to my briefing."

"So, when do we go?" asked Becker sharply.

"Now, actually," Rider told him, almost apologetically.

"What?" Becker almost choked.

"The reason you're parked here is that the car is over a manhole cover. Yesterday, two of my operatives broke into the ARC car park and engineered a false floor into your car where it was parked." He paused and winked at Becker. "You've got some security issues there, mate!" he smirked.

"Not funny!" growled Becker.

"Ok. In a minute you're going to lean over your seat and disappear down through the manhole, I'll follow and then we will detonate your car, allowing you to go deep undercover and me to begin to spin the web to trap Kabir."

"And what happens when I find him?" asked Becker. When, not if.

"You neutralise him," confirmed Rider. "This is not a search and rescue mission."

"More a search and destroy, right?" asked Becker with satisfaction.

Rider nodded whilst Becker narrowed his eyes.

"Is this sanctioned?" he queried suspiciously.

Rider smiled. "Yes, we have the authority to use lethal force."

Jess, Jess, Jess. Becker's eyes clouded and his thoughts drifted for a moment as her face blazed across his brain. Her hair, her clothes, her shoes, her smile, her eyes…

"Captain Becker!" exclaimed Rider, then louder as Becker did not respond.

As Becker snapped to attention, his daydream vanished instantly.

"Yes sir!" he responded automatically, in full military mode.

"Are you sure there is nothing you need to tell me?" Rider asked, more gently.

"Absolutely sure. There's nothing." Becker's voice was flat.

His eyes became steel as he squared his jaw and leant over the seat.

"Let's get on with this, shall we?"

Rider pulled up the false floor of the pickup truck and lifted the manhole cover. Becker squeezed through with some effort and Rider followed moments later. Replacing the manhole cover, Rider pushed Becker further along the sewer tunnel, as Becker pulled a face and wrinkled his nose. Then Rider pressed a button on a small hand held remote and a huge explosion ripped the pickup truck apart above their heads.

The walls of the sewer shook and dislodged loose bricks into the water at their feet. Becker could hear the tangled metal of his once perfectly serviceable truck hitting the tarmac above in several large clangs. Becker stared at Commander Rider.

The older man grinned. "So, Captain Becker, how does it feel to be dead?"

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><p><strong>So what do you think? And how will the ARC take the news? Eeeek! <strong>

**Oh, and a special mention for anyone who can identify the line originally spoken by Christine Johnson in Series 3 Ep 9!  
><strong>

**Reviews please! :-)**


	3. The ARC

**A/N Wow 3 chapters in one night - I am on a roll! (Too much rum & coke again lol). Well, its 4.40am now and I think I shall have to call it a night (or a morning if you want to get technical!). Thanks for reading. I hope I haven't gone too OTT with the teams reactions. I've tried to keep it to quietly shocked :-) Thanks for reading and please review - I find I have become quite addicted to them! :-)**

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><p>The ARC was quiet, something which made Lester nervous. Quiet days always meant all hell was about to break loose sometime soon. Since saving the world, the anomaly pattern had changed. They would get days on end of nothing followed by several hours of extreme activity. Leaning back in his chair, careful not to scrunch the dark pinstripe Italian suit jacket hanging from the back of it, Lester stared out of the glass walls of his office - more for something to do than anything else.<p>

The Hub was alive with activity although not all of it appeared to be work related. Jess, dressed in a bright pink pleated skirt, peach blouse and matching peach wedge heeled shoes, was her usual irritatingly chirpy self, flitting from desk to desk, gathering information, reports and gossip.

Abby and Connor had been revoltingly tactile since the announcement of their forthcoming nuptials. Lester really wasn't sure how much more gooeyness he could handle. He grimaced. Oh God, they were at it again - and in full view of his office. Had these people no shame?

His attention was caught, rather gratefully, by Emily Merchant, the newest member of the ARC team. She was out of time but desperately trying to fit in. She dressed in a mish-mash of Jess and Abby's styles but managed to make it tasteful despite their best efforts. Lester had recently arranged a whole new life for her, including a birth certificate and passport and he couldn't deny a growing regard for the feisty young woman. Today, she looked sad, however, and he knew without having to ask that it was Matt-related.

Matt, man from the future and team leader, had become quieter and even more withdrawn - if that was possible - since the New Dawn project had been destroyed. On slow days like this he spent as much time as possible cultivating plants in his lab, leaving Emily alone and miserable. Lester sighed and watched as Jess immediately ran over and hugged Emily enthusiastically. How the hell did she run in those heels?

Hang on. Lester stood up. Something was definitely amiss. Jess was in the hub but he hadn't seen Captain Becker all morning. That was unusual. He looked at his watch - 10.30am - and frowned. He should have seen Becker at least three times in the last hour. He strode out of his office, just as Matt trotted down the stairs into the Hub.

"Has anyone seen our illustrious Head of Security this morning?" he demanded of everyone and of no-one in particular.

Jess's head whipped round at the question. She had assumed some important security stuff had been keeping him from her side this morning, but if Lester was asking then that couldn't be it.

Everyone shook their heads, frowning. Funny how no-one had noticed his absence before.

"Have you tried the armoury?" suggested Matt.

Jess clicked her heels back to the ADD and pressed a button linking the Comms with the armoury.

"Lt Carter, its Jess. Is Captain Becker there with you?"

"Negative ma'am," came the controlled reply. "We've not seen him all morning." _We assumed he was with you_, he added silently, smirking.

Jess turned wide eyes to Matt who even managed to look slightly concerned.

Lester checked his watch again irritably.

"Well, he's late," he grumbled and turned back towards his office. "Tell him to report to me as soon as he gets in - and with a better excuse than a bad hair day!"

"Lester," Matt's soft voice stopped him in his tracks. "Becker's never late."

Lester sighed heavily. "Jess?"

Jess looked startled. "Why should I know where he is?" she protested.

Lester waved his hands in the general direction of the ADD. "Well, find him," he instructed vaguely, before disappearing back into his office.

Matt and Jess exchanged a look to which Matt just shrugged his shoulders. Jess shook her head and returned to the ADD.

"Want some help?" Connor appeared unexpectedly at her side, having been nudged hard in the ribs by Abby.

"I wouldn't know where to start, Connor. I mean, its not like he has his black box on him," she murmured.

"Start with his mobile phone signal," Connor suggested. "Then we can try hacking into to Congestion Charge cameras and see if we can track his car number plate - its an ARC one, right?"

"Right." Jess agreed confidently and began tapping keys on the ADD, happy to have something to do.

Lester sat down in his big swivel chair. He'd never let them know, but now he was worried about Becker. Matt was right; Becker was never late. The man was scary with his punctuality. Lester picked up the phone but, before he could dial out, he was disturbed by and internal call from the front security desk.

"Yes, Sergeant, what is it?" he snapped.

"There's a man down here to see you, sir. Claims he from MI6," explained Sergeant Murray.

Lester paused, frowning. That was odd. What would MI6 want at the ARC?

"Have him escorted up, Sergeant." he ordered and replaced the phone in its cradle.

The appearance of a new face in the Hub flanked by two security personnel got everyone's attention. Jess turned away from the ADD, having had no luck with Becker's phone signal. Connor and Abby exchanged a glance.

"Who's he?" mouthed Abby.

"Don't know," Connor mouthed back with a shrug.

Matt moved closer, protectively, towards Emily who stared at the stranger with open curiosity.

Lester stood in the doorway to his office and looked the man up and down scathingly.

"You'd better come in," he said curtly and ushered him into his office shutting the door behind him, but not before giving the team his sternest "get back to work" glare.

Jess tried hard not to keep glancing over her shoulder at Lester's office. But no-one missed the thump of his fist upon the desk nor the sudden movement from sitting to standing that followed it. It was probably the most spontaneous display of emotion they had ever witnessed from Lester. It unnerved the entire team and Jess almost freaked out when he reached for the whiskey. Instinctively, the team closed ranks, moving closer together, knowing something bad was coming.

The voices in the office grew louder, sharper, angrier, but were still muffled by the bullet proof glass walls. Then it all went silent. Lester had slumped in his seat. Jess had never seen Lester slump in the entire two years she had known him. She was now on edge and frightened, more so from reading the body language of her boss than from the ignorance of the conversation.

Lester slowly became aware of the scrutiny directed at his office. He coughed. Hell, it was worse than sitting in goldfish bowl. Not moving his eyes from the team, he muttered "And now I have to tell them."

"I'll stay, sir, and answer any questions they may have," said Commander Rider from his seat opposite Lester. "The ones that aren't classified, anyway," he amended.

Lester nodded once, found his composure and opened the Comms to the Hub.

"Jess, please get Lt. Carter up here immediately."

Lester took another long draught of whiskey before standing slowly, donning his suit jacket and moving reluctantly outside to address the expectant faces of six very worried people. He stood at the top of the stairs, Commander Rider to his left, and cleared his throat.

"May I have your attention please," he announced, well aware that he had had their full attention for some considerable time.

"This is Commander Rider from MI6," he paused as the team murmured amongst themselves. "It appears Captain Becker's Special Forces past may have finally caught up with him."

Jess tensed until her muscles ached with the effort and Abby moved closer to her, placing her hand on the younger girl's arm.

Lester continued, trying to keep his face and his voice impassive.

"It seems he was involved in some operations in Afghanistan resulting in the detention of one of the Taliban's leading figures. There was an incident this morning involving Captain Becker and members of an al-Qaeda terrorist cell."

Jess began shaking, so much so that Abby tightened her grip on her arm.

"Captain Becker was -" Lester stopped, fearing his voice may crack in front of all these people. No, no, that would never do. He clenched his fist, took a deep breath and continued stoically.

"Captain Becker was killed in the line of duty."

There was a collective gasp from the small group of people gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Their eyes flitted from one to the other, all looking for the lie, for it not to be true, but all finding the same look of anguish reflected in each face. Jess, on the verge of collapse, was only still standing by virtue of the firm grip Abby maintained on her arm.

"I'm here to answer your questions," murmured Commander Rider into the silence. "I can't answer anything classified, but I will tell you what I can."

He looked around the shell-shocked faces of Becker's team, including his 2IC, Lt. Carter. _No friends, eh Becker?_ he thought. _Did anyone tell these people that?_

Just then the ADD beeped deafeningly into the hush. Jess had left a search running for the number plate of Becker's car and the ADD had found it. They all turned to stare at the burning, twisted wreckage that was once Becker's pick-up truck now displayed in full colour on each and every ADD screen. Abby cried out involuntarily, whipping her hand up to cover her mouth as she did so, not realising she had let go of Jess.

With a low, anguished moan, Jess sank to the floor, eyes transfixed on the ADD.

"Jess!" cried Emily, rushing to her side. Both she and Abby knelt on the floor beside her, arms around her shoulders, supporting the younger girl as she whispered "No, no, no," over and over again, as if her incantation would make the image untrue.

Connor stood to the side, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, gawping at Lt. Carter in disbelief. Lt. Carter, to his credit, drew on his military training and remained stony faced throughout. Only the raw look in his eyes betrayed the emotion he felt about the death of his boss and, he liked to think, his close friend.

Matt stood next to the girls, stood protectively over them, his accusing eyes trained on Commander Rider as if the MI6 man was entirely to blame.

Rider's attention was drawn by curiosity to Jess, her repeated chant getting louder but muffled by Abby's shoulder. He huffed angrily at Becker's deception. _No personal relationships? Hah! Really Captain Becker? Did anyone bother to tell this poor girl that?_

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><p><strong>Thanks again for reading. Becker's funeral is up next! Looking forward to your comments! Night night xxx<strong>_  
><em>


	4. The New Captain

**A/N Thanks to all who have added this story to their favourites/subscriptions! Ok, I've done the chapters the other way around. I was going to do the funeral in this chapter - but instead we meet the new Captain. Not sure about this chapter but it needed writing! Please review and let me know if its rubbish!**

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><p><em>It was dark and quiet in the ARC. The only illumination was the glow from the ADD screens. Jess sat in her large, red chair, running a diagnostic and concentrating on the steady stream of information flickering in front of her. She slowly became aware of a presence beside her but she steadfastly refused to look at him. Until he leaned over and placed the bar of chocolate on her keyboard, that is.<em>

"_Thank you," she whispered, smiling._

"_Nothing with orange in it, right?" he murmured close to her ear, tickling her skin with his breath._

"_Right," she agreed, moving her head to look at him then. God, he was so close. She studied his dark hair, his warm hazel eyes, the slight flush on his cheeks and the sexy smirk playing around his lips, making his dimple more pronounced. The smirk she loved so much; the reason she teased him mercilessly just to see it at least once a day._

_Suddenly, he pulled her up out of her chair and crushed her against him. Her arms entwined themselves around his neck, her fingers diving into the thick softness of his hair. She felt every contact of his muscles against her small frame and squeaked with pleasure as he buried his face in her hair, where it tumbled down her neck, feeling his lips warm against her skin._

_They pulled back, but only slightly, their faces just an inch or two apart. He stared intently into her eyes for a long moment, as if looking into her soul._

Oh my God_, she thought, _this is it. He's going to kiss me!

_And then Becker exploded into a flash of red hot fire and tangled wreckage…_

Abby rushed into Jess's room at the sound of her screams, quickly flicking on the light and beginning their nightly ritual which had been happening with alarming frequency in the time since Becker's death. She sat on Jess's bed and pulled the shaking girl into her arms.

"Hush, Jess, hush," she murmured soothingly into Jess's hair. "Its ok, you're ok."

She picked up the tissues from the bedside table and patted Jess's brow and eyes gently, as Jess stared blankly into the space behind her. She offered Jess the glass of water that was also on the bedside table and Jess took a slow sip, her screams having subsided to shuddering whimpers. Abby pulled her friend back into her arms and stroked her hair, having learnt fairly quickly that Jess needed comfort rather than conversation right now.

Jess had never told her about the dreams that plagued her sleep, even when Abby had asked her outright, but she could guess they featured Becker. The worst part was not the constant sleepless nights over the past week - Abby was having trouble sleeping herself and Connor spent half the night on his X-Box to avoid dealing with anything concerning feelings.

No, the worst part was not knowing how to help Jess. Abby had always known that Jess's feelings for Becker were more than just a crush and had often berated the soldier on his lack of action in Jess's direction. Lester and the ARC doctors had wanted to prescribe Jess sedatives but Abby had fiercely resisted, thinking it was better for Jess to grieve rather than to feel nothing. However, after nearly a week of this, now she was not so sure.

Abby felt Jess slump heavily against her, utterly exhausted. Still stroking her hair soothingly, Abby laid Jess back down on her pillow and waited silently until she was satisfied her friend was asleep. She left the room and closed the door behind her quietly. She stopped as she heard noises from the living room and made her way over to find Connor on his X-Box, as expected.

"How is she?" he asked, without looking up.

"She'll be fine," murmured Abby. "We all will, eventually."

Connor said nothing but launched into another round of furious finger movements.

"What are you doing?" Abby asked.

"Trying to beat Becker's score on COD - its impossible! The man is a machine!" Connor complained good-naturedly, secretly thinking Becker was totally awesome.

"Was, Connor," Abby corrected, somewhat bitterly. "He was."

Connor looked up at her then and saw the tears in her eyes threatening to fall. Abby never cried and he hated to see it. Connor chucked the X-Box controller onto the table and stretched out his arm towards her.

"C'mere," he said softly and Abby slipped gratefully into the warm comfort of his embrace, sighing quietly as he kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes and cast her mind back to the events of the last few days.

Lester had sent them all home on the first day. None of them had wanted to speak to the man from MI6 and he had left soon after briefing the rest of the security team with Lt. Carter.

Jess had spent much of the first day sat on the sofa in the flat in a near catatonic state, not drinking, not eating, not talking, just staring blankly in front of her. She hadn't cried and hadn't shown any emotion since her initial collapse at the ARC. Connor and Abby had spent the day worrying about Jess, which kept their minds off their own grief, at least for some of the time.

The following day, Jess had been a mere ghost of her former self. She was dressed drably and wandered listlessly around the flat, as if looking for something she would never find. Connor immersed himself in his X-Box, the only difference from his normal behaviour being that his gameplay was completely silent. Normally, Connor could be heard imitating the sounds of laser blasts or light sabre clashes (when playing Lego Star Wars) or machine guns (when playing COD). Now, he made no sounds at all, his face full of intense concentration, frowning, immersed in the action. And Abby had watched it all with increasing despair.

And then the nightmares started. Abby had been terrified that first night, listening to the Jess's screams, but it had since become so frequent that it was almost commonplace. Eventually, Abby had had enough. They were all going back to work - they needed something to do to keep their minds occupied. Work would be good for Jess, she decided, to get her back in her comfort zone, back to her beloved ADD. For her part, Abby was looking forward to seeing Rex and hiding in the menagerie for a bit.

They arrived in the Hub at the same time as Matt and Emily. The group shared a collective hug and even Jess managed a small smile. Until she noticed someone sitting in her chair. From the back it was clear the person was male, blonde and unfamiliar. She took a few steps forward as the man stood up and walked back towards them.

Jess froze as she looked him up and down, taking in his appearance. He was somewhere between Matt and Lester in age, had short, blonde hair and piercing blue-grey eyes but it was what he was wearing that stopped her in her tracks. The black uniform of the ARC security team, including Kevlar vest. She wouldn't have been surprised if those had been Becker's actual boots he was wearing!

"Ah, yes," Lester's dry voice echoed from behind them. "Meet our new Head of Security, Captain John Hutchens." He grimaced as he watched the team's collective flinch.

Captain Hutchens extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you all and, please, call me Hutch." He smiled warmly at the sea of frosty faces before him.

Emily stepped forward first, shaking his hand and returning his warm smile. "Welcome, Captain," she said. "I'm Emily Merchant. We're very pleased to meet you." Her correct Victorian upbringing refused to let her be rude to this man who was placed in this awkward position through no fault of his own.

Matt strolled forward to stand next to Emily. He shook the man's hand briefly and said curtly, "Matt Anderson, Team Leader. We'll need to have a briefing later." He didn't look overly happy but as Team Leader he was required to make the effort and set an example. This new Captain was going to be an integral member of his team, after all.

Neither Jess, Abby or Connor moved, all staring stonily at the newcomer. Matt sighed and introduced them.

"Abby Maitland, Connor Temple, and Jess Parker," he said indicating each person with his hand.

Captain Hutchens nodded to them in acknowledgement and Connor and Abby managed a quiet "Hello."

Jess, however, ignored the new Captain completely and instead pushed past him to take her place at the ADD. The moment she sank into her big, red chair she felt less tense. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Hutch frowned as he watched her pass him and then looked at Matt questioningly.

"She'll be fine," Matt murmured. "Just give her time."

Lester joined the team in the main Ops Room. He nodded his head towards Jess.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he demanded.

"She needs something to occupy her, Lester," said Abby defensively. "She can't sit around that flat moping all day. She needs to work."

"But - look at her!" exclaimed Lester, quietly but furiously. Had no-one else noticed? It was the first thing he had seen the moment she had entered the Hub and the one thing that worried him terribly. Gone were the ridiculously high heels, gone were the impossibly short skirts and gone were the outlandishly mis-matched colours. Jess was wearing a pair of black court shoes with only a very slight heel, brown linen, wide-legged trousers, and a cream, long-sleeved blouse that buttoned all the way up to her collarbone. Her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail and she was wearing not a scrap of makeup. Lester had never seen anyone alive look so lifeless.

Abby sighed. "She's up and she's functioning," she told Lester and patted his arm. "Be grateful for small mercies."

Lester frowned, annoyed. "Fine. But you need to keep an eye on her. Any sign of a meltdown and I want her back at home immediately."

Abby nodded and almost smiled at Lester's concern for the Field Co-Ordinator.

Lester huffed. "Health and Safety Regulations, you know," he insisted stiffly before turning his attention to his new Head of Security. "You would be best advised to stay out of the Hub today," he told him, flatly. "For the same reason…"

"Don't worry, James. I'll keep Captain Hutchens occupied for the rest of the day," offered Matt, noticing the strain in Lester's voice.

"Hutch, please!" interjected the Captain.

"This way, Captain Hutchens," responded Matt, pointedly, his voice cold. "I'll give you the grand tour."

The two men left the Hub together, with Hutch wondering what the hell he'd got himself into and Matt wondering how the hell he was going to hold the rest of the team together.

Lester walked slowly back up the steps, then turned to face Abby, Connor and Emily.

"The funeral is scheduled for tomorrow," he stated quietly. "I expect you all to be there." Then he disappeared back into his office, reaching for the whiskey.

Abby turned to Connor and Emily. "Take care of Jess. I just need to check on Rex in the menagerie," she said, a little more abruptly than she had meant to.

Rex came to her immediately she opened the door to her lab. He swooped over and landed on her shoulder. She tickled him under his chin and he chattered to her, rubbing his face against her hand. Abby sank to the floor, pulling Rex onto her lap and hugging him fiercely, letting the tears finally fall.

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><p><strong>So, hope it wasn't too bad! Review please! :D<strong>


	5. The Funeral

**A/N Thanks again to everyone who has added my story to their favourites/subscriptions! Its amazing and I love you all! Get your hankies ready - its the day of the funeral! I hope I've done it justice! I wanted to show Lester's softer side but am worried he's now a little out of character (but I know you lovely people will let me know, won't you?).**

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><p>The day of Becker's funeral dawned grey and damp. It was being held in a tiny but very pretty chapel in Hampshire, close to the Becker family home. The service was being held by the local vicar, who had known Becker all his life and who had been a bedrock for his mother.<p>

Mrs Becker sat alone at the front of the small chapel, dressed in black with a hat and veil, looking very elegant and composed. Only the tired sadness in her green eyes betrayed her feelings. In her hand she clutched a photograph of Becker as a small boy but didn't even glance at it once.

The middle pews were filled with a few close friends and neighbours, all there to support the lonely woman in the front. There weren't many, the chapel only had seats for around sixty people, but Mrs Becker hadn't wanted a huge fuss. She knew her son would not have approved of anything ostentatious.

At the rear of the church, taking up the last row, were the ARC team. Lester and a few security personnel sat on the left of the aisle. Lester had donned an Italian suit, black pinstripe, with a plain white shirt and black tie. His face was sombre, lost in thought. To the right of the aisle, sat Jess, dressed in an immaculate black trouser suit, matched with a pale blue silk shirt and black boots. Her hair was tied back from her face by a single black ribbon and she wore only a little makeup that Abby had applied for her. She was flanked either side by Abby and Emily, each dressed in black suits, each gripping one of Jess's hands firmly in their own. Occasionally, Abby would give Jess's fragile hand a squeeze and Jess would offer her a small smile in return. Matt and Connor were seated next to Emily and Abby respectively. Both men were dressed smartly in plain black suits, Matt's minus a tie and Connor's complete with black fedora.

Organ music began to play and Jess stiffened as the chapel doors opened and Becker's coffin was conveyed in atop the shoulders of the ARC security team, including Lt Carter and Captain Hutchens. The deep mahogany wood was draped with the Union Flag but it was his Regimental Beret on top that made the tears prick at the corners of Jess's eyes and her breath hitch in her throat. How she made it through the service she would never know, but she did. Quietly and so stoically that Becker would have been proud of her. Only when Lester was called upon to read the eulogy did she allow tears to fall silently. It was moving and heartfelt, peppered with Lester's abrasive sarcasm, but all the better for it. He reminded them of Becker's loyalty, his bravery and, above all, his unswerving dedication to his duty. He was the best kind of man, in Lester's opinion, an excellent soldier and, even though Becker would never have agreed with him, a gentleman.

He paid his respects to Mrs Becker and thanked her for loaning the Government her son.

"I am a better man for having known your son," he told her, to which there was a rumble of agreement and approval from the soldiers present. Jess smiled and closed her eyes, knowing she was better for having known him too, for however short a time.

Then the service was over and the congregation moved out into the graveyard for the burial. The graveyard was a beautifully kept green garden, each grave clearly tended on a regular basis. There were woods to one side, next to a small hill at the edge of the grass. The perimeter was marked out by a small white picket fence, so very English. Jess felt peaceful here as she stood at the graveside waiting for the coffin to be lowered into the ground. Abby was in Connor's arms, her face pushed into his shoulder, her mask having slipped a little and tears threatening to fall. Connor kissed the top of her head, his eyes already liquid.

Matt and Emily stood back a little from the graveside, arms around each other, finding strength in their quiet togetherness. Lester stood next to Mrs Becker, conversing with her softly, gently, no hint of arrogance in his demeanour or sarcasm in his voice, just genuine regard and affection for her son.

Jess jumped as the ARC soldiers fired off three volleys of shots, as was the custom at military funerals, and a lone bugler sounded out The Last Post. Mrs Becker was presented with the Union Flag and Becker's beret before the coffin was lowered slowly into its resting place.

Jess stood alone, next to the grave, the others, including Mrs Becker, had long since gone. She knelt down on the felt matting that surrounded the hole in the ground and talked to Becker.

"Hey, Becker. Its me, but I guess you know that already. Everyone misses you, you know, even Lester. Its weird not seeing you everyday. I don't like the new Captain much, I'm afraid. Sometimes I see you and I feel like you're watching me. At least I like to think its you, anyway."

She paused in her ramblings and looked behind her suddenly, feeling a presence, but there was nothing except an old man with a stick on top of the small hill near the woods at the edge of the graveyard. She wondered what he was doing there and then saw another old man approaching him and realised he was just waiting for his friend. She looked back down at her hands on her knees and sighed.

"I never got to tell you how much you mean to me. I don't know if you can hear me but I need to tell you anyway. I think I could have made you happy if you'd let me, instead of pushing me away. I do love you, in spite of your best efforts to dissuade me, and I always will."

She sighed again as Abby approached and placed a soft hand on the younger girl's shoulder.

"How you holding up?" she asked her carefully.

Jess wiped a tear from her cheek and sniffed. "Better," she whispered.

Atop the hill, Becker watched proceedings silently. He saw his mother's bravery in the face of all she had lost, he watched Matt and Emily and Connor and Abby and was confused by their behaviour. Surely he didn't matter that much to them? Mostly he watched Jess. She looked so sad and his heart broke in two at her pain. Even from this distance he could tell that she was upset. He knew her well enough to read her body language. Worse, he had known before this that she liked him more than she should. And he had always pretended to be oblivious to it. And now he was the cause of all her pain. He watched Abby move to her side and squeeze her shoulder. _At least she had Abby_, he thought trying to absolve himself. She would be all right with Abby's help.

He felt a presence to his left and looked into the face of another old man. He smiled mirthlessly. The second old man inclined his head in Jess's direction.

"She's very young, Becker," he admonished gently.

Becker sighed. "Who is?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"You should have told me, you know. When I asked you about personal relationships."

"I didn't have a personal relationship with her." Becker insisted.

"Well, I beg to differ, mate. She clearly thinks you did. And your friends are very protective of her, suggesting they think you did too."

"I told you, I don't do friends or relationships." Becker stated flatly.

"Well, those people, at least, seem to have ignored you," chuckled Commander Rider, nudging Becker's arm.

Becker sighed. "Story of my life at the ARC," he grumbled, with half a smile.

He looked the Commander hard in the eye for a long moment. "Take special care of her for me?" he murmured looking back at Jess, unable to keep his eyes from her, knowing this would be the last time he would see her for a very long time.

"I will do my best," promised Rider. "But you need to stop hanging around here, soldier, and complete your mission. The sooner Kabir is out of the way, the sooner she won't need protection anymore."

Becker nodded in agreement. He started to walk away, to disappear into the woods, to embark on the longest, deadliest, most dangerous mission of his life.

"By the way," called Rider softly. "Your disguise sucks!"

"So does yours, sir!" Becker chuckled, before hopping over the picket fence and vanishing into the woodland.

"Good luck, my friend, very good luck," murmured Rider, silently praying that they would both succeed. Then he, too, turned away, ready to start his own mission, to plug the leak at MI6.

The ARC team held their own private wake for Becker later that day in the Hub. Lester had amassed copious amounts of alcohol for their consumption and they were, well, consuming it. They drank and talked and shared Becker stories and drank some more. Lester wandered over to the ADD, after his 7th whiskey, and pointed at it accusingly.

"Don't," he ordered it, as if daring the alarm to trigger. "Just don't! Not tonight."

Abby caught his arm and dragged him back to the little circle of warmth that was not just made by alcohol, but by friendship and family.

He sat down, on the floor with the others and attempted to make his face stern.

"If anyone mentions this tomorrow, you will all be fired!" he announced and everyone giggled, including Jess, who had consumed maybe one tequila too many.

Lester turned his attention to the young woman for whom he had very great affection.

"Jess," he said gently. "You won't feel like this tomorrow." He paused. "You'll have one hell of a hangover for a start." He paused again to take another swig of whiskey from his cut glass tumbler. "But you need to be yourself again, Jess." He waggled his finger at her. "Becker would not approve of you so unhappy."

Jess nodded solemnly. "I know," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I'm blessed to have such good friends."

She raised her glass towards the centre of the circle. Lester, Matt, Emily, Connor and Abby raised their glasses too, appreciating her sentiment.

Lester shook his head. "We're not good friends, people, we're family." And he smiled at their surprised faces.

"To family," acknowledged Abby.

"To Becker," toasted Lester.

"To Becker," the team echoed before falling into a comfortable silence in the darkness of the Hub.

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><p><strong>Sniff, thank goodness that's the last sad chapter (for now, anyway mwhahahaha). Please review! Now on with the action... :D <strong>


	6. The Infiltration

**A/N OK I'm not happy with this chapter. Tom Clancy I am not! Still, I have tried so please bear with me! I am trying to show Becker coming to terms with not protecting people any more and actually having to kill them instead**. **Please feel free to let me know how dire it is (apologies for making you read it!) :(**

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><p>Becker made a good Afghan. With his dark hair and olive skin tone, he only needed to don a lungee (or turban) to look the part. He was fluent in Pashto and Arabic and had excellent geographic knowledge of the country. His cover name was to be Abdul Ghafoor, a very common Afghani name.<p>

In his last meeting with Rider, he had received a PDA.

"Everything on this computer is encrypted and every message received or sent will be encrypted. But do try not to get caught with it," Rider had told him.

Becker had grinned and stroked his fingers over the keyboard affectionately.

"Jess would tell you I'm not good with PDA's," he mused.

"What? Becker, it's a Personal Digital Assistant, it's not rocket science!" Rider had exclaimed, exasperated.

"I think Jess may have an alternative definition of PDA," Becker had chuckled.

Rider had also given him contacts, information about Kabir's terrorist activities in Britain, the current climate in Afghanistan and a plausible cover story. As Becker sifted through the information, memorizing what he needed and discarding the rest, he came across a reference to a codename. Operation Noah, he read, cringing. Rider could be so crass at times! He discovered he had been given a Hotmail address under the name of Noah and that was the only way Rider would contact him.

He turned his attention to the list of contacts and, rejecting the one Rider has suggested he meet with, he found one name leapt out at him. An old friend from Kandahar, now residing in Britain, with links to the Taliban. Mohammed Hafez, he smiled grimly as he remembered meeting him in Afghanistan. If anyone could give him a good reference to Kabir's cell, it was him. His address was listed in Birmingham so Becker turned the key to his beaten up C-Reg Datsun and began his long journey to find Kabir.

Becker sat outside the Mosque, waiting for Hafez. He was supposed to be bringing with him a member of Kabir's cell, to make the all important introduction and recommendation. But he was late and lateness made Becker nervous. Had his friend been killed? Was Becker's cover blown? He tensed as two men approached him but as he met Hafez's eyes he knew all was well. He stood and they exchanged terse nods.

Finding a quiet table in a nearby pub, they began conversing in Arabic. The second man turned out to be Asuf Khan, Kabir's third in command and quite a coup for Hafez to have persuaded him to meet with Becker. Asuf Khan was an older man, with steely eyes and Becker knew at once he should be very wary of this man. He launched into an interrogation in fast, thickly accented Arabic.

"Who are you? What is your experience?" he demanded.

Becker inhaled. Time to see if his cover story would hold up under scrutiny.

"My name is Abdul Ghafoor," he began, also in Arabic but slower, more deliberate. "I'm newly arrived in the UK. For the past six months I have been at the Training Camp in Arghandap district, dodging the Americans through the orchards." He laughed shortly but Asuf Khan's expression did not change.

_Tough crowd, _thought Becker tensely.

"We require an explosives expert," interjected Hafez, attempting to keep Khan interested. "Tell him about your experience," he urged.

Becker spoke fluently about his bomb making experience until Asuf Khan held up his hand to silence him.

"We will test him," he said to Hafez, ignoring Becker. "Have him build me a bomb, small enough to fit into a back pack but large enough to destroy a three storey building. Then we will see him again." Asuf Khan stood and left without so much as a second glance in Becker's direction.

Becker looked at Hafez and both sighed heavily.

"You're in," confirmed Hafez.

"What? He wants me to build him a bomb!" hissed Becker.

Hafez nodded. "Do a good job, mate, and you'll be his newest recruit and one step closer to Kabir."

Becker rubbed his chin unhappily.

"My friend," said Hafez, carefully. "You have to get out of the mindset that you are here to protect people. You always were that way, but that will not help you now. Now, you are Abdul Ghafoor - fresh from Afghanistan, a zealot, ready for Jihad! You must not flinch or feel anything. People will die and you will be responsible for killing them."

Becker winced, deep creases furrowing his brow.

"And that reaction will get you killed!" snarled Hafez. "Now go, do as he asks. Meet me at my home in two days." He stood up to leave. "And Ghafoor - don't disappoint me!"

Two days later, Becker was stood outside Hafez's house wondering if he should continue any further. He had constructed a bomb and now he was about to find out what it was to be used for. A man was walking down the street to his left. Becker moved forward to let him pass. Instead the man bumped into him and Becker felt hard steel press into his side.

"Do not turn around," the man said in heavy Arabic. "Up the steps and into the house, please." He pushed the gun further into Becker's ribs.

"Ok, ok," muttered Becker, again in Arabic and did as ordered.

Once inside the house, he was frisked and the bomb removed from his holdall. Several men trained handguns at him and Becker's eyes flitted round the room, looking for a means of exit.

"He's clean!" announced one man and Asuf Khan appeared from the back of the room, indicating to the men to lower their weapons with his hand.

"Forgive our suspicion, Kabir has ordered we increase security because of this!" he slammed a newspaper down on the table. The headline caught Becker's eye.

"TWO BIRMINGHAM MUSLIMS KILLED IN REVENGE MOTIVATED SHOOTING"

He read further and learned that the two men had been members of the terrorist cell. Rider's newspaper report that Captain Becker had been killed by two members of Kabir's own organisation had had the desired effect. Kabir had ordered the men found and killed. Of course, these two men had had nothing to do with it, but an example had to be made. Unfortunately for Becker, that now meant the cell were on alert, needing to make sure they didn't arouse their leader's wrath further.

He was pushed down into a chair at the little wooden table in the centre of the room. Taking in his surroundings, Becker noted there were at least ten other men in the room, besides himself and Asuf Khan. But Hafez was not there, despite this being his house. Becker became concerned for his friend, but had no time to dwell on it. Asuf Khan sat down opposite him, placing the bomb on the table between them.

"This is good work," he complimented. "We have a target. If it works well, we could use you. If not," he paused and one of his men pushed the barrel of his gun into Becker's temple. "If not, you die," finished Khan with a disinterested shrug. Becker swallowed.

"It will work well," he promised, firmly.

"We will find out tomorrow. Now, go, prepare, for tomorrow we will show the world Kabir is coming!"

Becker sat in his B&B the following night, his head in his hands, listening to the carnage being revealed on the 6 O'Clock News. Carnage he had been the root cause of. His bomb, his friend. He knew now why Hafez had not been at his house. He had been the one wearing the back pack bomb. He had been the one walking into Harvey Nichols at the Mailbox Shopping Centre. He had been the one blown to bits along with 20 shoppers and 5 others who had been crushed by falling masonry and glass as the building had collapsed. Becker had blown up his second shopping centre and this time, instead of killing dangerous burrowing creatures from the future, he had killed innocent civilians and a long-standing friend.

At that moment, he mobile phone rang. It was Asuf Khan.

"Come to the house of Hafez. We have new orders from Kabir."

This was it. Becker needed to put aside his guilt. He buried it in a small compartment in the back of his head, storing it to beat himself up with later. He was good at compartmentalizing, as a soldier he had to be. And now he had work to do. He shrugged into his jacket, picked up his holdall containing his bomb making equipment and, flicking off the TV screen, he left to begin his new life as a terrorist.

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><p><strong>So, what did you think? Please be honest if you thought it was terrible! I'll only cry a little bit :(<strong>


	7. The Incursion

**A/N This is what has been happening at the ARC since the funeral. Hutchens is settling in and Jess is distracted...Please review! :-)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval, just my story and OCs. Ahhhh but to have Becker at my beck (hehehe) and call :D**

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><p>Meanwhile, back at the ARC (<strong>AN Sorry, I have wanted to write that for ages! Hehehehe) **things had returned pretty much to normal, whatever normal decided to be that day anyway. The day after the funeral they had had three anomaly alerts, one after the other. First it was Raptors in a train station - luckily on a Sunday and not jam packed with commuters, then it had been a Dimetrodon slap bang in the middle of the newly constructed Olympic Village and several Olympic Committee members had been eaten, and finally they had dealt with a Brachiosaurus that had suddenly appeared on the Estate of prominent politician in rural Berkshire, much to the horror of the groundskeeper. Several hounds were crushed to death as the team struggled to return the large creature through the anomaly. During these busy days, Captain Hutchens proved himself invaluable to the team and Matt was thoroughly pleased with his performance under extreme circumstances. He commanded the security men well, he listened and followed orders when Matt gave them and was very competent at his job. Matt found himself liking the man, despite not wanting to.

Jess had thankfully switched back into operations mode once the ADD swung into action. She was glad of the distraction and the hectic pace of the last few days made it difficult to dwell on anything but the safety of the team. She co-ordinated them well, though not with her usual quirky style and odd, distracted little quips. She spoke confidently over the Comms, directing them to where they were needed, but there was little personal comment from her now. Abby and Connor found they missed it but knew better than to try and force it. With Captain Hutchens, however, her tone remained terse and frosty. He tried, he really did, but Jess was in no mood to cut him any slack whatsoever. And so the job got done, with the minimum of fuss and an absolute lack of joviality. Even Connor's attempts to lighten the team fell flat.

And now the waiting began again. The ADD had been quiet for two entire days now and Jess was beyond bored. She had written all her reports, run a diagnostic and checked all the CCTV cameras in the building were functioning properly. Hmmmm, CCTV. A sudden thought grabbed her attention and she clicked a few keys on her ADD keyboard. Sneaking a glance behind her to check no-one was looking, Jess hacked into the CCTV Archive Log on the ARC Mainframe. She brought up the file for the armoury from the beginning of the month. Yes, there he was. Becker. She smiled to herself, leaned back in her chair and continued watching.

Over the next few days she found herself checking out the CCTV footage more and more, hacking back through file upon file. Becker in the armoury, Becker in Ops, Becker in the training yard drilling the troops. There was no sound but that didn't matter. As long as she could see him, her day was brighter, more manageable. Even the team noticed. Her smile was more frequent and more genuine. Her bright clothes re-appeared, not to the extent they once were, but she wasn't drab anymore.

Connor and Abby were pleased with the change in her at work, although she was still unapproachable at home. What they didn't know was that her mood was directly related to how much Becker she was watching - and at home, of course, there was none. Even Jess didn't risk routing the feed through to her laptop at home. She knew she had to keep her addiction, because she was addicted to it, a secret. She knew what they would all say.

Abby would be understanding but argue that it was unhealthy. Connor would find himself being bullied into agreeing with Abby whatever he thought about it. Matt would tell her she could do without the distraction and she should concentrate on her job because people's lives depended on her. Lester, well, Lester would shout at her because it was inappropriate use of Government resources and that she wasn't allowed access to those files. Then he would ask her to check the archive in case there was something about him in there! And Hutchens? Well, she didn't really care what he thought. Although she knew he would say it was a serious breach of security and she must stop her activities immediately. She frowned. Emily, yes, Emily was the only one who would understand.

Since Becker's death Emily had been thinking a lot about her husband, wondering what had happened to his family, and hers, since his timely death in the jaws of a raptor. It wasn't that she had any love for him, Emily had told Jess. But death makes one curious about one's life and the people in it and she was obsessively researching the history of Henry Merchant before and after his death. Yes, Emily would understand why Jess had hacked the CCTV.

That fateful morning, Jess was sat at the ADD, watching one screen searching a map of the UK, ready to detect the first sign of an anomaly. On another screen, scaled down small enough to go unnoticed but still large enough for her to see out of the corner of her eye, was CCTV footage of Becker in the Ops Room from a couple of years ago. From shortly after Abby and Connor had returned from the Cretaceous. He walked across to the ADD to her right and placed a bar of chocolate on the console.

"Nothing with orange in it, right?" she whispered in unison with his silent lips, smiling wistfully.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the ADD alarm blared, lights flashing.

"Where is it Jess? What have we got?" Matt virtually leapt across the Ops Room to grab a black box, eager as he was for some action.

"Give me a minute," Jess muttered, minimizing the CCTV feed so Matt didn't see. The ADD zoned in on the anomaly and Jess had the co-ordinates by the time Captain Hutchens, Abby, Connor and Emily joined Matt in the Hub.

"Its in a Morrison's car park, in St Albans. Luckily its not 24 hour but I imagine there will be a few shelf-stackers present. I'm hacking into the CCTV and will update you on the way." Jess's clipped tone clearly showed she was in full co-ordinator mode.

The team ran out to the trucks, Hutchens ordering two teams of men on alert, ready to follow at a moment's notice. As Jess hacked into the CCTV at the supermarket, she resumed watching Becker on the other screen. She found the anomaly at the north end of the car park, no sign of a creature incursion as yet. Jess kept her eyes on the anomaly, knowing it would take at least thirty minutes for the team to get there. And suddenly, there it was. Jess jolted in her seat, knowing the danger, seeing the creature but not quite believing it.

"Matt, there's an Allosaurus. In the car park, north end. Its heading towards the store." She paused. "You need to hurry."

"Ok Jess, keep an eye on it. We'll be there in ten minutes," Matt responded immediately, pushing his foot to the floor and edging the speed of the truck up to 90 miles an hour.

Emily glanced at Matt and grabbed the handrail as Matt slung the truck round the corner into the car park. Abby was thrown against Connor in the back, her elbow in his ribs.

"Take it easy, Matt!" Abby cried and Connor grunted with pain.

Matt ignored them and checked his rearview mirror to see that Hutchens and his men were still on their tail in the truck behind. They stopped in the car park with a screech of brakes and were soon bundling out onto the tarmac. The soldiers fanned out, under Captain Hutchens orders, whilst the team followed Matt towards the anomaly.

"Where's the Allosaurus, Jess?" Matt queried over the Comms.

"Still at the north end of the car park," came the clear reply. "Its now about ten metres from the store. From what I can see on the store cameras there's a team of shelf-stackers in there, about twenty or so of them."

"Thanks Jess, we're on our way. Connor, lock the anomaly, but be ready to re-open it for the Allosaurus. Abby and Emily, you're with me. Captain Hutchens, watch our flanks."

Connor nodded, grabbed the anomaly locking device and headed out to the far side of the car park, now illuminated by a gold, flickering ball of light. Abby and Emily each grabbed an EMD and followed Matt towards the store.

Captain Hutchens followed behind, assigning one man to stay with Connor and ordering the rest to span out on either side of the team. As they neared the store, the Allosaurus came into view. It was a large, biped dinosaur with pretty mean looking teeth. Not quite as big as a T-Rex, but close, and very, very fast. The team approached with caution, EMDs at the ready. It turned slowly to glare at them and Matt fired off three quick bursts of his EMD, all of which hit the dinosaur. The Allosaurus roared with pain and anger, but didn't drop.

"Damn," muttered Matt and then the Allosaurus charged and chaos ensued.

The team leapt out of the way of the large predator as it bore down on them. It disappeared into the darkness of the car park as Matt, Abby and Emily ran after it.

"Jess, Jess, we've lost it!" Matt exclaimed, panting, into the Comms. "Can you see it? Have you found it?"

Jess didn't respond at first and Matt looked at Abby who tried again.

"Jess! Can you see the Allosaurus? Jess!" she cried.

The soldiers had sprinted off after it into the darkness and even Hutchens wasn't sure where all of his men were. He kept trying to raise them on Comms but the replies were garbled.

Emily put her hand on Matt's arm, slowing his run to jog and then a walk. He looked into her face and knew she was right.

"Stop!" he commanded, not willing to throw them all into the unknown only to be surprised by a hungry and very angry dinosaur.

"Connor? Are you ok?" he asked, and Connor's voice affirmed that he was, much to Abby's relief.

"Right, Jess, where the hell are you?" he snapped. "We need you to find the damned dinosaur!"

Two separate screams echoed across the car park and they all immediately began running again in the direction of the sounds.

Finally Jess's voice was heard over the Comms.

"God, Matt, sorry. I'm so sorry. I've found the creature. Its about thirty metres from your position, straight ahead. Hurry, and tell Hutchens he's got two men down."

"I heard, goddamnit!" Hutchens growled into Jess's earpiece.

They all arrived simultaneously and fired consecutive EMD bursts at the Allosaurus. Finally, it dropped, dead, having taken one EMD hit too many.

"Sorry Abby," murmured Matt and Abby sighed, resigned to the fact that the more dangerous ones may not get to go home.

Hutchens turned his attention to his fallen soldiers. Both were badly injured but alive.

"Jess," Emily took over communications while Matt and Hutchens assessed the soldiers' injuries. "The Allosaurus is down. We have two injured soldiers. Please alert the Medical Bay. The anomaly is locked so we are on our way back."

"Done," confirmed Jess. "Emily, tell Matt I'm sorry," she said in a whisper.

Jess closed down the CCTV archive footage. She had been staring at Becker telling her she was brilliant and had been so absorbed in it that she hadn't registered Matt's urgent transmission until it had been too late. Two men had been injured because of her Becker addiction. She needed to stop it now, before someone was killed.

The team arrived back at the ARC some forty minutes later. Matt and Captain Hutchens strode into the Hub arguing heatedly.

"Let it drop, Captain Hutchens!" ordered Matt, loudly. "Everyone is ok and I'll deal with it."

"No, I won't let it drop, Anderson!" shouted Hutchens, equally loudly. "Two of my men are in the Medical Bay because our field co-ordinator is more interested in mooning over former Captain Becker than doing her job!"

There was a collective gasp from Abby, Connor and Emily and even Lester appeared at the door to his office at this forceful, angry statement. Abby's gaze flew immediately to Jess, who stood, head held high, and strode across the floor of the Ops Room, heels clacking vigorously on the metal floor. Before she had even stopped in front of Captain Hutchens her right fist connected with his jaw in a move Becker had taught her for use on dinosaurs or unwanted male attention. Jess wasn't sure which category fit Hutchens best, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

It was probably more the surprise than the actual punch itself, but the petite young woman had managed to land the six foot soldier flat on his arse on the bottom step right outside Lester's office.

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><p><strong>Go Jess! So, what did you think? And andrewleepotts - does that answer your question? :P Ooooh Jess is soooo in trouble now hehehe :D<strong>

**Sorry - just realised I forgot to thank Jnevadub232 who asked if Jess could punch Hutch way back in her review of Chapter 3 and who is the inspiration behind this chapter! :D  
><strong>


	8. The Reconciliation

**A/N Not overly happy with this chapter. Its short and I'm not sure its exactly what I wanted. Hopefully you will see a new side to Hutchens and we will all like him a bit more! I hope Jess and Lester are not too OOC to make it unbelievable. I don't think Lester has it in him to really shout at Jess regardless of what she has done! **

**Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to andrewleepotts who suggested that Becker had saved Hutchens life and he should share the story with Jess. **

**Please review! :)**

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><p>"Miss Parker, my office, NOW!" commanded Lester, his tone brooking no argument.<p>

Jess swallowed hard, stepped around the soldier still sitting on the steps, and followed Lester into his office shutting the door behind her.

Connor shared a secret high five with Abby, grinning stupidly at Captain Hutchens. Matt helped the soldier up by his arm and Hutchens cleared his throat, trying to regain some dignity. "I'll be in the armoury if anyone needs me," he muttered, turned tail and left. Matt chuckled as Abby and Connor fell about laughing and Emily grinned. Then the smiles fell as they gazed up at Lester's office.

"Hope he goes easy on her," observed Matt, softly.

Lester stared down at the young woman in the chair in front of him. She sat primly, ankles crossed, one hand cradling the sore and reddened knuckles of the other in her lap. He sighed loudly, knowing he had to reprimand her and not wanting to.

"Jess, what the hell were you thinking?" he demanded angrily. "I will not tolerate that sort of behaviour, I expect much more from you!"

Jess hung her head but remained silent.

"Did you know that Captain Hutchens has been aware of your secret hacking of the CCTV for some time now and agreed to leave it be?" Lester sat down in his chair and crossed his hands on his desk in front of him. "What he said was out of order, Jess, but you can't just go around punching people!" There was a short silence and Lester changed tack.

"Captain Hutchens knew Becker, you know. He's feeling his death too, Jess," he told her, ever so gently.

Jess looked up at him then, eyes wide. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've let you down and I never meant to." She hung her head again, biting her lip.

"Right, I'm prepared to let this pass." Lester stated decisively. "Report to Medical and have that hand looked at." He paused and glared at her. "But, Jess, no more CCTV. And I expect you to apologise to Captain Hutchens."

"Yes, of course," whispered Jess at her lap.

"Well, off you go, then," Lester dismissed her with a wave of his hands.

Jess stood slowly and moved towards the door.

"Jess!" Lester's clipped voice stopped her halfway.

"Nice right hook, by the way." He winked at her and she gave him a small smile in return as she exited the office.

Jess dragged her feet on her way to the armoury, knowing that's where Captain Hutchens would be and so not wanting to go there. But go there she must, by order of the boss. Hutchens was checking the EMD inventory in a manner that was so Becker it made Jess gasp so audibly that it would have announced her arrival even if the clacking of her heels had not.

Hutchens turned to her and placed the EMD down on its box.

"Can I help you Miss Parker?" he asked formally.

"Captain Hutchens," began Jess nervously. "I just wanted to - I wanted to -" she stumbled over her words, drew in deep breath and tried again. "I want to apologise for hitting you." There, she'd said it.

He stared at her, his eyes cold.

"Why?" he demanded.

She was tempted to say "Because Lester told me to," but knew that would not help the situation. Instead she told him simply, "Because it was my fault your men got injured, you had every right to be angry with me and I should not have punched you. I was wrong and I'm sorry."

Hutchens nodded once, acknowledging her apology and Jess turned away, desperate to leave.

"He saved my life once," Hutchens said quietly to her back.

Jess spun to face him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Becker," clarified Hutchens. "We served together in Iraq."

Jess sat down on the bench next to the boxes of EMDs.

"Will you tell me?" she asked softly, curiously.

Hutchens straddled the bench, hands on his thighs, across from her. "Very well."

"We were on patrol in Basra, clearing houses of insurgents as quickly and quietly as we could so as not to alert them to our presence. Once they were aware of us, we were history." He paused and Jess nodded at him, encouraging him to continue.

"One night, things were particularly fraught. One patrol had already lost a man, blown up by an IED, so we were all a little jumpy. But we were also out for revenge - not a great combination. Sergeant Williams was on point, Becker and I were bringing up the rear and I got sloppy. I declared a room clear without checking every corner, just because I wanted to move onto the next one and find a Iraqi to shoot. " He snorted derisorily. "I was trigger happy back then."

He paused again, his eyes far away, becoming lost in the memory.

"And then?" prompted Jess, gently.

"There was this kid in the room, I didn't see him, but he came out from behind the doorway as I turned my back. Luckily Becker had his eyes on my six and fired into the room."

Jess's hand flew up to her mouth in a failed attempt to cover her gasp. _Oh God, Becker had killed a child!_ she thought, horrified.

Hutchens opened his eyes and contemplated her reaction for a moment before understanding.

"No, no," he said reassuringly. "There was an insurgent using the boy as a shield. He raised his gun at my back and Becker shot him before he could fire. The boy was fine - except that he escaped and raised the alarm so the operation was aborted and we had to retreat back to barracks."

Jess exhaled loudly in relief and Hutchens smiled grimly.

"He saved my life that night. We lost touch over the years, but I've never forgotten what I owe him."

Jess looked at the soldier with a newfound respect. "Thank you for telling me," she murmured sincerely.

"Will you stop hating me now?" asked Hutchens, eyebrows raised hopefully.

She smiled, her first genuine smile directed at the Captain. "I never hated you. You just weren't Becker. How about we just agree to be nice to each other?"

He nodded once and smiled back.

Jess stood to leave, then paused in the doorway.

"How are Cole and Jenkins?" she queried, sheepishly.

Hutchens stood too, ready to get back to his EMD inventory. He picked up a weapon before answering.

"They will be fine after a couple of days in the Medical Bay. Nothing life threatening," he told her, not wanting her to worry.

She left then with a new determination to put the past behind her and accept Captain Hutchens as part of the team. She couldn't keep pining for a ghost or a memory, she needed to move on.

Hutchens breath became noisy as he thumped back down heavily on the bench. He was sweating and his hands were shaking as screams and gunfire resounded in his head and long buried memories of Iraq swamped him. He scrunched up his eyes and held his head in his hands, waiting for the horror to pass.

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><p><strong>Poor Hutchens! Well, they're not best friends but they have agreed to tolerate each other. What's happening to Becker is next! :D<strong>

**But, before that - please review! xxx**


	9. The Betrayal

**A/N I know I normally update in the middle of the night - and this chapter is a little short again - but I had an inspiration and it had to be written! Its been a few months since his "death" and now we find out what has happened to Becker...**

**Thanks for all who have added this story to your favourites/subscriptions! Its amazing to know how many people out there are reading this! Please review as well - I love hearing what you think! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval so please don't sue me. Unless you're Ben Mansfield, then you can sue me but only if I can pay you any damages "in kind" (you know what I mean? Hehehehehehehe) :P**

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><p>The room was dirty and dark and sparsely furnished. The terrorist cell had moved to London about a month ago on Kabir's orders and were now just waiting for instructions for their next target. Becker sat on the floor in the corner of the room by the window fiddling with the latest detonator Asuf Khan had made him build. Sitting around like this made him nervous. Something bad was coming, he could feel it.<p>

Asuf Khan entered the room grandly with the four others in his inner circle. His face was hard and cold as he addressed the men, around another five of them including Becker, that had been waiting patiently for his orders.

"Kabir has arrived in Britain!" he announced triumphantly and the men cheered. "He must still be cautious but will join us in our fight soon." Another cheer. "In the meantime he has set us a task." Every man in the room tensed with excited anticipation.

"Kabir informs me we have a traitor in our midst."

He paused to allow his words to sink in as Becker froze, not daring to look up. The bad thing had clearly arrived. Asuf Khan continued.

"The soldier Kabir thought we had killed. It appears he faked his own death to lead Kabir off his trail and try and turn our exalted leader against us." There was a collective gasp in the room and every muscle in Becker's body constricted. "Then he tried to infiltrate us and destroy us from within! But he will fail, because Kabir knows and has ordered me to take this man to him."

"Where is he? Who is he?" the men asked in unison.

Asuf Khan laughed and raised his finger, pointing at the window.

"Meet Captain Becker, our new explosives expert!"

Becker stood slowly, his back literally against the wall. His eyes darted from Asuf Khan to the men and back again, automatically searching for a way out, even though he knew there was none. His hands became tight fists as the fight or flight response kicked in. And Becker had never been one to run away.

Becker had knocked at least four men to the ground before the fifth brought the muzzle of his gun crashing down on the side of Becker's head and the world went black…

Becker woke, his eyes snapping open instantly even though his head felt heavy and his senses were groggy. He was a soldier, first and foremost, and knew that he had to overcome any injuries he had sustained and remain alert to stay alive. He took in his surroundings and his position.

He was moving, but not of his own volition. Blinking hard, he realised he was in a bus, a very old transit conversion, with dirty windows and a rear exit door. That may prove useful. He was sat at the back near this exit door with his hands and feet bound. His head hurt, something was trickling or had trickled down his face. Blood or sweat, he surmised, but he couldn't tell. There were only four other men in bus with him including the driver. If he was ever to get away, now may be his only chance.

Slowly, carefully, he tested the ropes binding his hands. Someone hadn't tied them very well and he realised with growing excitement that he could free himself. He had already been surprised that they hadn't put a covering over his head for the journey and now his ropes were loose. This cell were sloppy and he almost pitied Kabir for putting his faith in them.

Painfully he strained against the ropes, trying to loosen them further without alerting the men to his movement. The longer they thought he was still unconscious, the better. The ropes loosened fractionally and Becker, biting his lower lip to combat the pain of the rope burn on his wrists, forced his hand from its bonds. Now came the tricky part; how to untie his feet with out attracting attention. Oh so slowly, he lifted his feet, hidden by the back of the seat in front of him. Holding them raised with his thigh muscles and just sheer willpower, Becker reached his hands forward and untied the knot allowing the rope to fall silently to the floor. By the time his ankles were freed, Becker's thighs were screaming in protest at their unnatural position and his lip was bleeding as he bit through it. For the first time Becker noticed he was barefoot and knew what he was planning to do was going to hurt more than just aching muscles and a bitten lip.

Gently he lowered his feet to the floor and in his peripheral vision saw one of the men glance round at him. He immediately lolled his head forward against his chest, praying the man would assume he was still unconscious and look away. He sighed quietly with relief when he sneaked his eyes open again and saw the man looking out the window again. It was now or never. Holding his breath, and much to the surprise of the driver who happened to glance in his rear view mirror at that moment, Becker leapt up and launched himself at the rear exit door. He was actually surprised to find it unlocked, threw back the handle and leapt onto the tarmac below, the angry shouts of the men in the bus behind him resounding in his ears.

He hit the road with his body still travelling at around forty miles an hour. The impact compacted his bones as the hard, rough surface tore at the skin on his feet, his legs and his arms and he swore loudly. Rolling to the side to try and keep out of oncoming traffic, he became aware that the bus had screeched to a halt and the terrorists were leaning out of the rear door. The beeping from car horns and the angry shouts were drowned out by the chatter of machine gun fire as Becker felt shrapnel bouncing off the pavement around him. His body now working on pure adrenaline, he was immediately on his feet and running, dodging obstacles, rolling and weaving, trying to make himself as hard a target as possible.

The men were out of the bus now, chasing him down the road, machine guns still unloading in his direction, making onlookers scream and duck for cover. Then came a sound that made Becker's heart soar with the knowledge that he was going to make it. Sirens. Police sirens, getting ever closer, and lots of them by the sounds of it. The machine gun fire ceased and the men's shouting sounded further away as they turned tail and fled back towards their bus. Kabir would not be happy if they ended up in custody at Paddington Green. Better to die at the hands of Kabir than be faced with that dishonour.

Panting heavily, Becker slowed his run once he was sure he was no longer being pursued. He dove into an alleyway and slid down the grimy wall until he was sitting on the cold, pigeon-poo riddled floor with his legs stretched out in front of him, oh so lucky to be alive. As he calmed and the adrenaline dissipated from his body, he became aware of pain in his left arm. On inspection he noted he had taken a bullet across the fleshy part of his shoulder. It was only superficial but he was bleeding heavily. He knew he couldn't go to hospital, doctors would have to report a gunshot wound to the police, so instead he tore a piece of his shirt and wrapped it round the aching wound in an effort to slow the bleeding.

He leant his head back against the brick wall behind him and closed his eyes. He had been betrayed, that much was clear. But why? And by whom? He snapped up straight knowing where the answers lay, knowing where he had to go. He had to get himself into MI6. He smiled grimly. But first he had to get himself a gun. Or maybe two…

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><p><strong>So, thoughts please? And are the answers he needs at MI6? WHO HAS BETRAYED OUR FAVOURITE SOLDIER BOY? :(<strong>


	10. The Illegal Entry

**A/N Well I promised another update tonight - and here it is! With thanks to Jnevadub232 who gave me the idea in the first place! **

**And apologies for anything that happens in the MI6 building! I've never been there and have no idea about the security set up of such a building so don't shoot me down because its so damn easy to get into! I have brushed it off as the arrogance of the security services and that will just have to suffice for the purposes of this story lol :D**

**Anyway, hope its ok - please review so I know! :D**

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><p>Becker left the alleyway as soon as the coast was clear. He couldn't risk being found by either the terrorists or the police. He looked down at his state of dress, now ripped and dirty and bloody. He needed a change of clothes and a bit of a wash. Finding a side street, he saw a small terraced house clearly empty, its occupants most likely at work, and broke a window to gain entry.<p>

He washed his hands and face in the bathroom sink and rummaged though the wardrobe in the master bedroom searching for clean clothes. He found a shirt and jeans (a little short and a little wide, but no matter), socks and a pair of shoes only slightly too tight and made short work of changing. Placing his dirty clothes in a bin bag that he found under the kitchen sink, he decided he would dump these in someone else's rubbish once outside.

He made an effort to make the house look like he had not been there before leaving carefully and quietly the same way he had entered.

Once back outside, he needed to find out where he was and how to get where he was going. Luckily most street names in London show the Borough underneath and this was how Becker learned he was in Lambeth. Great, Lambeth was not too far from Vauxhall, the home of MI6 and also not too far from the hotel where Becker had, with immense foresight shortly after his arrival in London, stashed his PDA, two handguns and around £1000 in cash. Not the world's hugest amount, but it would have to suffice.

He blended into the throng of people on the main road and walked in the direction of the hotel, his heart leaping every time he saw a turban or a police car. He needed to get this money quickly so he could start taking taxis and stop feeling so very exposed. It took him an hour on aching feet to reach the address and another fifty minutes dodging hotel staff before he was finally able to gain entry to the laundry room and retrieve the items. He grabbed a laundry bag, stuffed his belongings inside and snuck back out into the corridor, attracting appreciative glances from a couple of chambermaids who giggled and whispered to each other when he grinned and saluted them.

Becker stepped outside and hailed a black cab.

"Vauxhall," he ordered the driver, knowing in the rush hour traffic that it would take a good hour to get there. He settled down in the back seat and opened the PDA, but there was nothing on this electronic device to give him the answers that he wanted. The last email had been from Penny, Rider's PA, weeks ago, to advise him they still had no news on Kabir's exact whereabouts. Then there had been silence, something that had disturbed Becker at the time, but he had assumed the Commander was bogged down with finding and plugging the leak at MI6 - an operation of a much higher priority than Becker's.

An hour later and Becker stood in Vauxhall Cross, staring up at the MI6 building. It was an striking looking building, directly located on the banks of the River Thames, designed to look imposing and powerful to those below. A building whose inhabitants had not been officially acknowledged to the public until 1994.

It was getting dark now and Becker was glad of it. He stuffed one handgun in the waistband of his jeans behind his back and the other in his sock. The money and the PDA he hid in the perfectly landscaped gardens of the building he was about to enter illegally. Many staff were now on their way home after a day of keeping the nation safe against hostile foreign threats (Becker laughed shortly, not quite believing it) and he was banking on their carelessness. Bumping into one who looked fairly similar to himself, Becker was able to swipe his entry card without the silly man being any the wiser. Now he had access and, knowing MI6 as the complacent lot that they were, he knew once one had gained access through the tight security at the entry points to the building, the remaining security would be relatively easy to circumvent.

And now, here he was in the corridor of MI6. He opened a vent panel and pulled himself up into the air conditioning ducts. He really wished he could call on Jess to bring up accurate blueprints to the building for him and navigate him through the maze of ducts and access panels in this damned complicated building. But he couldn't, he didn't have time to make the necessary explanations that such a request from a dead man would require. He was on his own.

He followed the vents to where they interconnected with the lift shaft and then began climbing upwards. He was looking for an equipment room which he knew was on the tenth floor somewhere. He'd been given a tour of the building once, part of an MI6 recruitment drive for members of the armed forces, and he had an excellent memory. Climbing out of the lift shaft at the tenth floor, he cautiously emerged into another deserted corridor. There weren't even any CCTV cameras in this part of the building. Everything was so secret, they couldn't risk any evidence of it. He shook his head at the arrogance of it all.

Finding the equipment room, he shorted out the entry code system on the door and slunk inside. Looking around him he grinned. Rows upon rows of fabulous gadgets and toys and oh God, he could quite happily live in this room! Shaking himself mentally, he collected what he needed (and maybe a couple of things he didn't, but what the hell) and stuffed them all into a holdall he also found in the room. On his way out, he spied a parachute, all carefully packed into its bag ready to be deployed in an emergency. His grin widened as he took that as well.

He made his way back to the lift shaft, determined to take as few risks as possible of running into any security staff. His next destination was Commander Rider's office to consult with him on how Kabir had discovered his identity. It was a question he had been arguing with himself about ever since he had been exposed. How the hell had Kabir found out? Rider had said only two people at MI6 knew about the operation, himself and his PA, Penny. Was Penny the leak? Had Rider been compromised? Becker didn't know, but he knew with absolute certainty that he had to move with extreme caution on approaching the Commander's offices.

The offices he sought were on the twentieth floor of the building and Becker's wounded arm was howling in pain by the time he reached the end of his climb up the lift shaft. He took a moment or two to regain his breath before creeping down the corridor and knocking quietly on the big oak door to Rider's suite. There was no answer but Becker was certain Rider would not have gone home yet. He knocked again and listened intently. In the silence he thought he heard a muffled moan and he was immediately on alert.

Screwing a silencer onto his handgun, Becker shot out the door's entry keypad and pushed his way into the office beyond. The office was dark, with only the glow of a computer screen to illuminate it. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dark and his head spun round in response to another soft moan. Gun lifted up against his cheek, ready to fire at a moment's notice, Becker walked carefully towards the sound and almost tripped over her in the dark.

Kneeling down and pushing the gun back into the waistband of his jeans, Becker gently touched the woman who lay at his feet. Penny, Commander Rider's PA. She moaned again as he moved her onto her back and it was then that he saw her clothes were covered in blood that seeped from the bullet hole in her chest.

_Oh God!_

"Penny! Penny!" he whispered frantically. He'd had correspondence with this woman through the PDA and he felt as if he knew her already. "What happened?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him in such agony that Becker bit his already sore and bruised bottom lip.

"Becker?" she hissed urgently. "Are you Becker?"

He nodded and she handed him a piece of paper.

"Rider hasn't seen this," she stuttered through her teeth. "Rider, Rider -" she stopped and sucked in a ragged breath as her life ebbed away. "Beware of Rider…." and then she sagged against Becker's arm and closed her eyes.

Becker laid her dead body gently on the floor, feeling sick. What had she meant - beware of Rider? Commander Rider was the good guy, wasn't he?

He didn't hear the door opening behind him, but he couldn't miss the sound of the gun being cocked behind his head. "Hello, Becker," said Commander Rider dryly. "I wondered if you'd show up."

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><p><strong>So, like I said, thanks to Jnevadub232 for making Rider the bad guy! The answers why are coming in the next chapter! :D REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW (PLEASE?)<strong>


	11. The Answers

**A/N This chapter is dedicated entirely to Jnevadub232 for making Rider the bad guy and wanting to see him suffer. I'm happy to oblige! :D **

**In this chapter Becker gets the answers he craves! Please be warned it is not pretty - we find out what really happened to Shamsi and its all implied but nasty nonetheless! There is some violence and gun shooting and someone dies! Horribly (just as Jnevadub232 requested). **

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><p>Becker froze, like a rabbit in a car's headlights.<p>

"On your knees, hands behind your head!" order Rider.

Becker complied, staying silent, interlacing his fingers at the back of his head, classic execution style. Rider reached forward and removed the guns from Becker's waistband and sock, throwing them, clattering, onto Penny's desk. Satisfied he now had Becker secure, he opened up a dialogue.

"Why on earth did you come here, Becker?" he demanded.

Becker hesitated momentarily. "Answers," he stated flatly.

Rider laughed loudly. "What would you like to know?"

Becker paused. "Was this a set up from the very beginning?"

"Yes," confirmed Rider matter-of-factly. "That it?"

"Why did you kill Penny?" Becker glanced down at the body of the middle aged woman.

"She discovered my connection to Kabir and left me little choice," Rider's tone showed no remorse and Becker felt sick.

He felt Rider nudge the barrel of the gun against the back of his head, bruising his scalp.

"You don't expect me to confess my sins now do you, Becker, all James Bond style? Although, I suppose I could arrange some ridiculously elaborate death for you!" Rider laughed again, enjoying his moment.

"Yes," said Becker softly. "I think you want to tell me. You want me to know - otherwise, what's it all for?"

Rider huffed. "Fine. Yes, I want you to know what I did, and what I will do, before you die. I want to see the knowledge that you can do nothing to stop it in your face and the torment and agony in your eyes before I put a bullet between them." His voice was cold and venomous and Becker wondered what the hell he could have done to this man, once his friend and colleague, to make Rider hate him so much.

Rider nudged the gun into Becker's head again. "Up!" he commanded and Becker scrambled to his feet, keeping his hands laced behind his head. Rider gestured that Becker should sit himself down in a chair near to Penny's desk, before seating himself, feet on the desk, in the chair opposite, gun still trained on Becker.

"Ask me!" Rider challenged. "Ask me the right questions and you may get the answers you are looking for."

Becker stared at his former CO for a moment and decided to start at what he thought was the beginning.

"What's your connection to Kabir?" he asked calmly.

Rider grinned. "He recruited me in Afghanistan."

Becker jolted with surprise - not what he had been expecting. This was a respected Special Forces Colonel, how on earth had he been recruited by a terrorist? "What the - ? How and why?"

Rider's face became grim. "We had no business being there, Becker. We invaded a country on the Americans' say so. We killed civilians and they killed us. What was our purpose? To serve American propaganda! Kabir's cause made sense, it still does: to rid his country of the invaders, us! I agreed to assist him in his goal." He laughed shortly. "But then he went and got himself captured!"

"So, you're punishing me for incarcerating Kabir?" asked Becker incredulously.

"Nope," Rider popped the "P". "Try again."

Becker tried a different question.

"Are you the MI6 leak? Did you give Kabir my information?"

"Of course!" smiled Rider as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You faked my death. Why?" persisted Becker.

"I knew my connection with Kabir was close to being discovered. I decided to pit you and Kabir against each other, hoping you would finish each other off leaving my trusted reputation intact." Rider admitted, smirking. "Penny discovered it, but she's not going to tell anyone, and soon you won't either."

Becker indicated his arms, which were getting heavy still raised at the back of his head.

"May I?" he asked Rider if he could drop them now.

Rider nodded. "But keep them on the arms of the chair, where I can see them!" he commanded.

Gratefully, Becker let his arms rest on his chair, his muscles aching, his bullet wound bleeding again.

"OK, so that's why Kabir," Becker mused. "Now, why me?"

"You really don't know?" asked Rider, amused.

Becker shook his head. "I have no idea," he said, a little defeated.

"Shamsi," Rider stated simply, with a sickening grin.

Becker moved like lightning, giving Rider no time to react. He pushed the desk upwards, knocking Rider's legs in the air, jerking his gun arm up and allowing Becker the opportunity to wrench it from the Commander's hand. Another split second had the gun crashing down on Rider's head, knocking him unconscious and leaving Becker panting, his face snarled in anger.

Rider came to his senses still sitting in his chair, which surprised him. The only difference was that his arms and legs were bound and Becker was the one with the gun. Well, that and the computer desk was up on its end, the monitor smashed on the floor beside it.

He grinned infuriatingly at Becker. "Nice move," he acknowledged, appreciatively.

"Tell me about Shamsi!" ordered Becker aggressively.

Rider's expression didn't change. "Becker, I'm an experienced double agent. I hardly think there is anything you can do to me that is worse than I've been trained to endure by Kabir. I don't think I will tell you anything more now."

Becker shot Rider through the elbow and had the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

"Jesus, Becker!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Becker just waiting patiently for the Commander's pain to pass with no flicker of emotion on his face. He was now a terrorist. A terrorist with a blind spot when it came to Shamsi. He had to find out what Rider knew about her, no matter what it took.

"Tell me about Shamsi," repeated Becker, his voice low and flat.

Rider, now over the shock of being shot and with the pain subsiding to a throb, began to chuckle.

"It was so convenient how you blamed that on Kabir. And I encouraged it of course."

Becker's face moved ever so slightly, a brief moment of surprise.

"Shamsi's death wasn't Kabir?" he asked, fighting his emotions for control.

"Of course not," confirmed Rider. "I killed her."

Becker lost his battle and anger contorted his features. He leaned over Rider, forcing the gun into his face.

"Why?" he demanded hoarsely. "Tell me why!"

Enjoying Becker's obvious distress, Rider confidence rose with his voice as he told his tale.

"We all wanted her, surely you knew that! She was the most delicious thing for miles and to men, far away from home, without women for months on end, she was what all the soldiers fantasized about. Me included!"

Becker's left hand fisted, making his knuckles as white as his face.

"I tried, just like everyone else, but she would have none of me. She would have nothing to do with anyone Becker. Just you!" He spat the last two words in disgust.

Becker pulled back slightly, still aiming the gun at Rider's head. "Go on," he demanded.

"That night, the night you caught Kabir, you were so pre-occupied with celebrating at Camp Bastion that it was easy for me to slip away. I went to see her. To give her one last chance to give me what I wanted. She refused so I killed her." Rider said it with such a lack of emotion that Becker almost pistol whipped him again.

He remembered how he had found Shamsi. Her home destroyed, her body defiled, tortured and strangled. He swallowed hard, blinking away angry tears and gritting his teeth.

"You did - that - to her?" he growled.

Rider nodded, seemingly quite proud of that fact. "She refused me. She had no right to refuse me. Certainly not in preference to you! I was your commanding officer - that should have given me first choice on the perks! I convinced her that she was nothing to you. That you had abandoned her for someone else whom was now enjoying your attentions at Camp Bastion. I took her and she screamed the whole time." His smile was sadistic. He had clearly enjoyed the experience. "I hurt her, I tormented her and then I strangled her!" Rider crowed loudly as Becker thumped down, shaking, into his chair.

Pleased to have the upper hand again, Rider continued. "That's what this is about Becker. I wanted that woman, but she only wanted you. But I was the last one to have her and she died thinking you didn't love her! I was the last one she touched, the last one to touch her. But, she died with your name on her lips, not mine. So then I smashed up her house and wrote your name on the wall in her blood. It looked so much like Kabir's work that it was the perfect cover." Rider laughed as Becker panted and rubbed his hand over his face in despair. "But that's why you have to suffer now. Because she loved you, not me."

Rider leaned back in his chair, as far as his bonds would let him, and smirked. "You killed her, you know, Becker. By being arrogant enough to love her and make her love you, you killed her."

His last statement pushed Becker too far and he fired a bullet through Rider's kneecap. Rider screamed and passed out.

Coming round again, Rider felt woozy and hot. He knew his body was going into shock having suffered two major gunshot injuries but he fought for consciousness anyway. Becker had taken the time Rider was unconscious to calm down and re-focus. He had to get his emotions under control and find out how Penny had discovered her boss's connection to Kabir and where the terrorist was now. He watched Rider open his eyes, blinking the sweat from them that was trickling down from his forehead.

"How did Penny discover you?" Becker asked quietly.

Rider's breath was noisy and he spoke with great effort.

"She intercepted communiqués between Kabir and myself. The first told Kabir who you were. Kabir's reply told me what he was going to do about it." Rider grimaced as pain coursed through him.

"You betrayed me," Becker stated the obvious. "Kabir told you he was going to have me killed?"

"No, the last communication told me you had escaped. Kabir advised me what he was going to do now he no longer had you to torture." Rider's voice was fading, his breath becoming more laboured.

"Which was?" pressed Becker.

Rider grinned, a lopsided, sadistic grin as he paused before dealing his killer punch.

"I believe his exact words were: _Tell Noah, I've gone to feed the animals in the ARC_"

Becker's stomach fell out of his body and smacked onto the floor. His face paled and he couldn't hide the emotion he felt from his eyes.

"Kabir's gone to the ARC?" he whispered horrified.

Rider nodded, almost drunkenly, due to the blood lost from his wounds. "I didn't get chance to see the last of the message. Penny had ripped it up by then. But yes, I think its safe to say he will be at the ARC by now." He paused and drew in a noisy breath. "I told him to take special care of Miss Parker, just like you asked me to."

Becker shook with anger, his fingers clenched so tightly that his nails drew blood from his palms. Then he remembered the scrap of paper that Penny had handed him when he had found her. He scrabbled around in his pockets for it and held it up for Rider to see.

"The rest of the message," he announced and read it aloud. "_Bomb in your office. Detonation at 00:00. Goodbye Rider_."

He glanced down at his watch: 23:58. Becker smiled grimly. Oh he was so not going to die here. He groped around the office for the parachute bag and secured it onto his back.

"Bye Rider. I hope you burn in hell!" he snarled as he backed up across the office, facing the window beyond.

"Becker! Don't you leave me here!" screamed Rider, realising that his time was up.

Becker just grinned at him, emptied the pistol magazine into the window and leapt out of it on the run, trying to get as much distance between him and the building as he could. Just as he leapt, an enormous explosion ripped through the building and fire and glass rained down upon him. By good fortune, the shock wave pushed him outwards, far enough for him to deploy the parachute and guide himself expertly into the River Thames.

Shucking himself out of the parachute immediately to avoid being sucked down by it into the murky depths of the river, he swam strongly to the nearest bridge and hauled himself out of the water onto one of the bridge supports. He remained there shaking and panting, watching the fire consume Commander Rider's offices until one thought, and one thought alone, gripped him. _The ARC. He had to get to the ARC._

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><p><strong>I loved how Becker went all James Bond at the end parachuting out of the building. Or he could be the Milk Tray man...oh, hang on, if you're old enough to remember the Milk Tray man what the hell are you doing reading Primeval Fanfic? Ooooops, <em>I remember the Milk Tray man!<em> Oooh, there's a whole nother story there! YAAAYYY!**

**Sorry, got sidetracked - please review, review, review. You know I love that! :D**_  
><em>


	12. The Noasaurus

**A/N I realised that in my summary I say there is Conby and Memily and I don't think there's much of it in my story. So here is a little bit. Not a very good little bit, because I struggle with Conby and Memily and its only a very little bit but I have tried! :D**

**Also, there is a dinosaur - called a Noasaurus (I know, but its real - I looked it up!) - and I just couldn't resist it. Besides he'll be useful later...**

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><p>The anomaly alert had sounded at seven o'clock that morning, echoing through a half deserted ARC…<p>

Only half deserted because Lester was already in his office, sifting through anomaly reports for the previous month, frowning deeply.

Matt and Hutchens were conversing in the armoury. Since the Morrison's anomaly they had developed a tentative camaraderie and had decided to meet to discuss strategies to improve the communication and involvement of the security detail at anomaly alerts. On occasion their conversation strayed from work scenarios and they discovered they had a lot in common; they even laughed from time to time.

Jess, on this particular morning, was sat at her beloved ADD - where else? - slurping a frothy coffee and munching warm pain-au-chocolat with Emily. She had persuaded Emily that this was a very nutritional breakfast and Emily was thoroughly enjoying it.

"So, how are things with Matt?" enquired Jess casually.

Emily smiled at her friend's complete lack of tact.

"Better, actually," she conceded. "He still has his moments where he is withdrawn, but he is trying very hard. You know, the other day, we took a walk in the park. And instead of being all melancholy, talking about how blue the sky is and how it all changes in the future, he noticed some children playing and actually laughed as they chased each other around a tree. It was very - positive." She smiled as she remembered the moment affectionately.

Matt was slowly emerging from his darkness and Emily was glad to see it. He let her in more and more each day and they were both learning the ways of this unfamiliar time. It was sometimes challenging but still a journey well worth the taking. And at least they were taking it together.

Jess patted her hand and brought Emily out of her reverie. Emily smiled and broached another difficult subject.

"And how are you, Jess?" she asked gently, clasping the younger girl's hand in her own.

Jess sighed heavily. "Better, I suppose. Every day makes it easier to accept - what happened." Jess paused. "And it helps that I have such lovely friends," she added, squeezing Emily's hand.

Since her chat in the armoury with Captain Hutchens, Jess had reinstated her eclectic style. Although her skirts were longer - she felt she had grown up over the past few months - and her heels were slightly less ridiculous, the bright colours had returned along with her smile and her cheerful nature. Only her eyes betrayed her regret, having lost some of their sparkle. She still had her bad days, sometimes at night the sadness overwhelmed her and she would cry herself to sleep, but these instances were occurring less and less and Jess was feeling more at peace with herself and what had happened. She'd only been to Becker's graveside twice this week, an improvement on the four times the week before.

The anomaly alert interrupted breakfast and Jess slopped her coffee on her skirt in surprise. Emily jumped up and grabbed a black box, having become an integral part of the team since her return from the past. She tapped her Comms.

"Matt, Hutchens, anomaly alert," she announced.

"Yep we heard it," replied Matt. "We're on our way. Jess what have we got?"

Jess was checking her screens, typing at her keyboard swiftly, the ADD closing in on the co-ordinates.

"Matt, its on Brighton Beach!" she cried and exchanged an astonished glance with Emily.

"Where are Connor and Abby?" demanded Hutchens, suddenly right behind her instead of in her earpiece and grabbing a black box whilst slinging an EMD over his shoulder.

"We'll ring them from the car," decided Matt, taking black boxes for himself and the missing couple.

With a brief nod to Lester, the team headed out, a security detail not far behind them.

Connor and Abby were stood next to Abby's mini arguing about whose turn it was to drive. That changed as soon as they received Matt's terse phone call. Abby already had the keys and so leapt into the driver's seat and headed south, out of London. They were to meet with Matt, Emily and Hutchens at Brighton Pier. It was a good hour's drive and after a brief period of silence whilst Abby navigated her way through London's traffic, Connor asked Abby a question that had been worrying him for some time.

"Abs," he began, uncertainly.

"Uh huh," the blonde woman replied, concentrating on the traffic and not really listening.

"Do you think Matt will be ok if I ask him to be best man at our wedding?" Connor stopped as Abby turned her head quickly to look at him.

"I mean, I was going to ask - to ask Becker - of course - but now I can't but I don't want Matt to think I only asked him cos Becker - can't - and I just - I don't know -" Connor was rambling and Abby smiled at him lovingly. No-one could worry like her Connor could worry.

"It will be fine, Connor," she reassured him. "Matt will be pleased, I know he will."

Connor smiled slightly. "I guess we need to talk about this, don't we? Maybe set a date?" His voice was tremulous. Everything had been put on hold since Becker's death and he had never been sure when would be a good time to re-open the subject. But he wanted to marry Abby as soon as possible - before the fear that she would change her mind made him a nervous wreck!

Abby let go of the gear stick and patted his knee.

"If you like," she murmured, smiling. Maybe planning a wedding was what they all needed - something fun and happy to do for a change.

"Soon?" asked Connor, in the manner of a small child asking a parent when they were going to Disneyland.

Abby giggled. "Yep, straight after we deal with this anomaly," she promised.

"Will you wear a dress?" asked Connor hopefully. Abby didn't wear dresses often enough in his opinion.

"To deal with an anomaly?" Abby teased, straight-faced.

"To our wedding!" exclaimed Connor, not catching on that she was joking.

Abby grinned. "The biggest, fluffiest marshmallow I can find!" she declared and giggled at Connor's glorious, expectant face, his eyes like saucers. "NOT!" she added, vehemently.

Connor's face fell, his mouth turned down in disappointment. Abby decided to indulge him.

"I will wear a nice dress - a proper wedding dress - I promise," she told him solemnly.

He smiled at her. "And what should I wear?"

"Absolutely nothing!" cackled Abby as she threw the mini round a corner, jolting Connor against the car door as he gaped at her.

Matt threw them both an EMD as they met up on the beach, the shingle crunching beneath their feet.

"Nice of you two to join us," Matt observed, dryly.

"Sorry," they apologised in unison. "Car trouble," added Abby and Connor smirked.

Jess's voice interrupted them over their earpieces.

"Matt, the anomaly is right at the end of the pier. Be careful, the wooden structure is old and unstable and there are dangerous currents in the sea below."

"OK Jess, we're on it. Any sign of an incursion?" asked Matt, almost as an afterthought.

"I don't have CCTV on the beach or on the Pier," Jess sounded unhappy. "I can only just see you if I wiggle the traffic cameras at the roadside to just the right angle. I can't see the anomaly at all, so I don't know if anything has come through it. Sorry."

"No problem, Jess," Matt tried to reassure her, knowing she hated not being able to see what was happening. "Just keep the public out of this area until we know what we're dealing with."

"Already done," there was pride in Jess's voice at having been so useful. "The coastal road is now closed, TV and radio are announcing that the beach is closed and I've ordered the police to keep the public out of the area. There's a very dangerous gas leak, by the way."

"Great work Jess!" Matt could almost see her smiling.

He looked at Hutchens and the two men lead the team towards the Pier. As they neared it, there was an unmistakeable sound, one that sent chills down each of their spines every time they heard it; it was the sound of an incursion.

Running towards the end of the Pier they saw the creature.

"Noasaurus," Connor identified it immediately. "Late Cretaceous." It was about 8 feet long with talon-like claws. "Like a raptor, but not a raptor," muttered Connor to himself.

"Carnivorous?" asked Hutchens.

"Hell yes!" exclaimed Connor in admiration of the dinosaur. "And its fast too."

"Great," grumbled Matt. "OK, so lets knock it out and put it back through the anomaly quickly," he ordered, looking down to charge his gun.

"Um, Matt, that's going to be a problem," Emily told him, slowly.

He looked up just as the anomaly blinked out of existence.

"Damnit!" Matt exclaimed. "OK, Plan B - we knock it out and take it back to the ARC. Have we got a cell in the menagerie that will hold it Abby?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but Lester's not going to like it!"

Matt stared at her hard. "Now the anomaly has closed, its either that or we kill it," he told her flatly.

"Right, yep, we'll take it back to the ARC then," agreed Abby. She was more than happy not to have to kill it.

Suddenly, the Noasaurus noticed them and, with an excited roar, charged towards them. They all raised their EMDs and fired and the dinosaur dropped - straight through a rotten wooden board and into the sea.

"Damn!" shouted Hutchens, having discovered a few weeks ago that dinosaur transportation was his responsibility. He snapped orders to his men over the Comms to get a boat and a truck.

With the incursion dealt with, the anomaly closed, and the sleeping dinosaur on its way back to London, Jess lifted the restrictions from around the Pier. And went to replenish her frothy coffee.

Abby, Connor, Matt and Hutchens arrived back at the ARC quite late that afternoon, having made sure the Noasaurus was secure in the back of an armoured truck. Hutchens had felt the extra protection of the armoured vehicle was prudent given that this little chap was a killer. Matt drove the ARC pick up truck into the yard and frowned.

"Where are your men at the gate?" he asked Hutchens.

Captain Hutchens frowned. "No idea - but there's going to be hell to pay when I find out!"

He jumped from the car and made a run towards the gate. But there was no-one there and no evidence of anything untoward.

He turned back to Matt. "You go on ahead and brief Lester. I'll secure the creature in the Menagerie and sort out this damn sorry security team!" He shouted the last part just to be sure his men had heard his disappointment.

Abby linked arms with Connor and Emily gripped Matt's hand firmly in hers as they made their way to the lift. The doors opened and then the small metal box transported them up towards the Ops Room. They were laughing and joking as they exited the lift at the far end of Ops, near Lester's office. The laughter died abruptly as four men in turbans trained Kalashnikov rifles in their direction…

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><p><strong>Uh-oh! Who could possibly be in the ARC with Kalashnikov rifles and wearing turbans? And what possible use is a Noasaurus? :P<strong>

**REVIEWS PLEASE! :D**


	13. The Terrorists

**A/N Firstly may I gush - Oh wow over 100 reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time - I love you all! You are very very special people! :D **

**Ok this chapter took on a life of its own and isn't exactly what I was planning - but I hope there is enough death and destruction for you all :D Oh, and did somebody mention Stephen Hart? :P**

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><p>Jess was stood making herself a hot frothy coffee when she heard a noise behind her. Assuming it was the team back from their travels she turned with a huge grin on her face.<p>

"You guys have fun at the beach today?" she laughed but it stuck in her throat as she froze in shock.

A large man, in a dark purple turban, wearing a very ordinary looking t-shirt and jeans, was pointing a very large rifle in her face. She dropped her mug on the floor in her surprise, splashing her shoes with hot liquid and making her eyes water as it burned her skin. The man grinned at her, showing nasty looking teeth.

"Move!" he ordered her in Arabic, indicating with his weapon the direction in which she should go. Putting her hands in the air, just by her shoulders, Jess complied, walking down the steps into the main Ops Room.

Lester was on the phone, his chair swivelled round so his back was to the Ops Room. He was being briefed about an incident today in south London, involving armed gunmen and an escaped terrorist. Not his usual remit, obviously, but even civil service staff liked to gossip, and when it was the Minister, one had to listen. There was a loud repetitive bang that sounded horribly like gunfire and Lester immediately replaced the handset and poked his head out of his office door.

"Would someone mind terribly telling me what the hell is going on?" he demanded loudly. Then he muttered "Oh!" as he watched Jess make her way down the steps with a rifle in her back. Lester found his voice again.

"Put that weapon down!" he commanded. "Who the hell are you?" He moved out into the Ops Room and then became aware of another man, several other men actually, behind him and turned, a little surprise registering on his usually impassive face.

A tall, lean man, in a blue turban, dressed similarly to the first but clearly the man in charge, grinned at him, his eyes twinkling. Behind him, back towards the lift, two security men were lying on the floor and Lester was pretty certain they were dead.

He lifted his chin and looked the tall man up and down disdainfully.

"And just whom may you be?" he sneered.

"Who I am does not matter," the man stated in low, heavily accented English. "Why I am here? Now that is a more interesting question!"

Lester shrugged nonchalantly, but feeling a knot beginning to twist in his stomach.

"So, why are you here?" he asked almost rudely.

"Payback!" laughed the man. He raised his rifle and brought the butt down hard on Lester's temple. With a grunt, Lester collapsed on the floor as Jess screamed and made an attempt to run to her boss.

"Stay where you are!" the tall man commanded her, then turned to his motley crew. "Dump him back in his office and lock her in there too. I want to explore this facility before the others return."

Several hours later, Lester came round on the floor of his office. Jess was sitting on the floor near him, leaning against one of the glass walls, her knees up with her head resting on them. She scrambled over to him as he stirred and helped him sit up, then checked his wound was no longer bleeding.

"Jess," Lester whispered with effort. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she whispered back, straightening his tie. "I think they're terrorists. They seem to be very interested in the building and what we do here." She paused. "I think most of the security team are dead." Her voice cracked slightly and Lester patted her hand.

"What about Matt and the others?" he asked her.

"Think they're still out. But we've no way to contact them. Comms are down, they've taken my mobile and cut the landlines."

Lester pulled a face. "Let's hope they notice something is amiss when they arrive then."

At that moment he saw Matt, Emily, Connor and Abby being marched into the Ops Room at gunpoint.

"Ah, they didn't," he sighed.

"Hutchens isn't with them," whispered Jess urgently, as one of the terrorists entered the room and dragged them both to their feet.

"Let's hope he feels inclined to rescue us then!" hissed Lester as they were pushed down the steps to join the others.

Matt touched Lester's shoulder. "You ok, James?" he asked, concerned by the blood on the older man's face.

Lester only had time to nod once, before there were bullets ricocheting off the metal ceiling of the Hub, making them all duck.

"Listen up people!" the man in the blue turban addressed the team from the top of the steps. "Who is in charge of this facility?"

Lester stood up straight, smoothed down his blue pin-striped suit and stepped forward. "I am," he said looking boldly at the terrorist.

"Wrong," Kabir told him before raising a handgun and putting a bullet through Lester's thigh.

With a loud shout of pain, Lester toppled over but was saved from the floor by Matt.

"I've got you, James," he murmured close to his boss's ear. Lowering him gently to the ground, the rest of the team closed in around him. Abby took off her over-shirt and ripped it, giving the rag to Matt to tie round Lester's wound. Another gunshot and Kabir had their attention again. He motioned that they should move away from Lester, which they did, with only Matt remaining next to him.

"Now," continued Kabir. "I will ask my question again. Who is in charge of this facility?"

There was a pause in which Matt glanced at Lester who nodded solemnly, gritting his teeth in pain.

Matt stood slowly and stared at Kabir.

"You are," he replied quietly and evenly.

Kabir seemed mollified. "Excellent. That was lesson one. Disobey my orders and lesson two won't be so lenient." He turned and spoke to his men in rapid Arabic. "Take them to the storage room and lock them in. Give them some medical supplies for the old man - I may need him later and I'd hate for him to die so soon."

The team were herded out of Ops at gunpoint.

"Not him or her!" commanded Kabir pointing at Matt and Abby. "I have something for them to see."

Emily and Connor looked horrified, not wanting to let Matt and Abby go but they had no choice. Matt tried to reassure Emily and Connor, nodding towards Lester.

"Take care of James and Jess," he told them. "We'll be fine."

Kabir's men led the way to the storage room with Emily and Connor supporting Lester between them and Jess tottering along behind, trying not to let her fear get the better of her.

Kabir took Matt and Abby to Abby's lab, past the bodies of several of the security team and lab assistants, and into the Menagerie beyond.

Downstairs, Hutchens had made his way round to the loading bay doors, ready to release the Noasaurus into the Menagerie. He had been unable to discover the whereabouts of any of his men and he was now on high alert. He knew something was seriously wrong inside the ARC but before he could attempt any kind of rescue mission he had to get rid of the damn dinosaur! Throwing back the bolts to the largest cell in the Menagerie, which had been allocated to the creature, he pressed the button to open the door and reversed the truck inside. Having already unlocked the truck doors before driving inside, Hutchens knew all he had to do was wait in the truck and watch the Noasaurus exit into the cell.

The Noasaurus had already begun to come around after its EMD induced sleep. It roared in the back of the truck making the vehicle shake as it crashed its body against the sides and doors. The back doors of the truck popped open against its weight and the Noasaurus edged carefully out into the cell. Hutchens prepared to drive away and slam the Menagerie doors shut to capture it. But before he turned the key to start the truck's engine, the shouting began.

Startled, Hutchens looked in the trucks mirrors again and saw the Noasaurus moving strangely. It looked to him like it was stalking something, but this cell was supposed to be empty, ready for this creature. He needed a better view so he got out of the truck and cautiously edged along the side to the rear. Before he could see properly into the dimly lit cell, the heavy doors swung shut and locked behind him.

He jumped as they banged closed and the lock slid loudly into place. He froze. How? He hadn't activated the doors locking mechanism. His heart sank as he also realised there was no way to open them from the inside. His attention returned to the noises within the cell. The shouting and yelling was louder now and he moved slowly back towards the dreadful sounds, wishing he'd been clever enough to bring a large EMD with him.

As he rounded the back of the truck, the sight that met his eyes drew him right back to his tour in Iraq. The security team, the majority of them by the looks of it, were trapped, unarmed and defenceless, as the angry Noasaurus stalked towards them. It had already killed one man, torn to pieces to Hutchens left, and did not look like it was going to get bored any time soon.

_What the hell was going on? _thought Hutchens angrily_. Why were the men here? How were they going to get out of this?_

He stared up at the windows at the top of the cell and caught a glimpse of Matt and Abby's horrified faces. They were guarded by several other men, he noted, all with weapons. He shook his head. His gut feeling had been right. Something was terribly wrong and now the men, his men, were going to pay for it.

He suddenly remembered something and patted his thigh pocket to check he was correct. He grinned, grimly. _Not on my watch!_ he decided.

Taking a deep breath and praying hard, even though he wasn't a particularly religious man, Hutchens strode forward into the cell.

"Oi!" he shouted at the Noasaurus and achieved his aim as the dinosaur swung round in his direction, Private Simmons in its jaws, thankfully already dead.

"Captain!" yelled Lt Carter from the front of the throng of men. "Did you bring weapons?" The Noasaurus turned back towards him again, giving Hutchens the opportunity to close the gap across the cell.

"No!" he shouted back, shaking his head. _Well, just one_, he mused determinedly, feeling the metal in his hand. "Step back Carter," he ordered. "I'll deal with this."

The Noasaurus moved quickly towards Hutchens, realising he was the one cut off from the rest of the prey, the easy target. Hutchens moved slowly, to his left, drawing the dinosaur away from the men. The Noasaurus dutifully followed and rushed the soldier.

Hutchens pulled the pin out of the grenade and held out his arm. He had the satisfaction of seeing the small metal object enter the dinosaur's mouth along with the rest of his arm. He heard screaming and realised it was his own before the dinosaur attacked again and then he knew nothing more.

"Captain!" yelled Lt Carter, taken aback and horrified by the bravery of Hutchen's actions, hoping without hope that the Captain might possibly still be alive.

The Noasaurus turned its head towards Carter, warm fresh blood dripping from it jaws. Carter could have sworn it laughed at him, before Hutchens grenade exploded its flesh outwards. Carter stumbled on his feet and fell to his knees, as did many of the soldiers around him, unable to comprehend the sudden loss of their Captain, astounded by his singularly courageous action which had saved them all.

Up above, staring through the glass windows, Kabir laughed heartily at the spectacle.

"Hutchens!" Matt shouted, banging his fists on the toughened glass but having no impact at all.

Abby screamed in horror as she watched Hutchens get torn apart by the Noasaurus and was unable to prevent the tears from staining her cheeks.

Matt dragged her into his arms and crushed her against him, squeezing his eyes tight shut to banish the image of his friend's last moments.

Kabir was still laughing. "Your fine security operatives are now locked in with no means of escape. No-one will be coming to rescue you." He paused to allow his words to sink in, but neither Matt or Abby really heard them, clutching onto each other in their grief. "Put them with the others," he ordered his men. "And bring me Miss Parker."

Matt locked eyes with the terrorist. _What did this terrorist want with Jess? How the hell was he going to get them all out of this? Would he be able to keep them all safe until he could figure out how to stop this man? Oh God, they were all going to die…_

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><p><strong>So, I'm fairly sobbing now into my rum &amp; coke! Hurry up Becker, we need you! :D<strong>

**REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! :P**_  
><em>


	14. The Clever Field CoOrdinator

**A/N Wow - over 100 reviews thank you so much! And thank you to all who add this story to their favourites / subscriptions!**

**By the way, this chapter was inspired by how good Matt looks a little beaten up (end of series 5 Matt double! lol). Yes I'm very mean...**

**And Becker's back - my hero! :D**

**Oh and apologies for the swearing in the last line - necessary I think and **** out but you know what it says! :P  
><strong>

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><p>Walking to the storage room that was serving as their prison cell, Matt's mind raced. Idea after idea for their escape flitted across his brain and was dismissed as quickly as it came as either too dangerous or just plain suicidal. By the time they were shoved up against the wall outside their destination he still had nothing. And now they were going to take Jess.<p>

They were pushed roughly inside the room. Emily and Connor leapt up immediately, giving their respective partners a fierce hug and Jess glanced up at them from sitting on the floor holding Lester's hand. Their boss looked very pale, but Jess and Emily had made a good job of patching up his leg from the first aid kit they had been given by Kabir.

"You!" One of the terrorists pointed at Jess. "Come with us!"

Jess looked up, eyes wide and frightened and Matt knew he had to try something.

Without thinking he launched himself at the nearest man, knocking his gun out of his hand and sending him sprawling on the floor. Unfortunately, the two other men responded quickly. One kept his gun trained on the rest of the team shouting at them in Arabic.

The other slammed the butt of his rifle into Matt's stomach, winding him and leaving him reeling.

The first man, his name was Mohammed, picked himself up off the floor and collected his rifle. He walked slowly back to Matt, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.

"You a hero, huh?" he asked, malevolently, his eyes narrowing. Ensuring that his fellow terrorist, Abdul, kept his gun on the team he instructed the third man, Nasri, to hold Matt's arms behind him.

"No!" cried Emily as Mohammed's first punch impacted Matt's cheekbone, making the team leader grunt in pain and blood trail down his face.

Mohammed just chuckled and punched again, this time to Matt's stomach. Matt made a small "Ooof" sound but with his arms twisted behind his back he was unable to double over. He gritted his teeth, knowing what was coming; the man was going to pulverize him.

Punches rained down now, again and again and again. Matt concentrated on trying to block out the pain although his body jarred with each impact. He could hear Emily now crying somewhere to his right but he had neither the strength nor the willpower to reassure her. He knew this assault was going to continue until he passed out and actually willed for the darkness to take him. Finally, with one last blow to his temple, his head lolled against his chest and the world went black.

Nasri discarded Matt's limp body on the floor like an unwanted toy and Emily was immediately at his side. Mohammed looked around the group, all of whom refused to meet his eyes. Taking this as a sign of defeat, he addressed them gruffly.

"Sit nice and you won't get hurt," he paused and grinned. "Much. Now you -" he pointed his rifle at Jess. "You are to come with me!"

Jess shook her head, refusing to let go of Lester's hand.

"Very well, I'll just shoot him, shall I?" Mohammed trained his weapon on Lester much to Jess's horror.

She held up her hands. "Ok, ok," she murmured.

She stood, very dignified, picked her way across the others who all touched her as she passed as if this was to be the last time they would see her. She and the three terrorists disappeared through the door and Abby immediately brought the first aid kit to Emily to help her tend to Matt's wounds.

Kabir was waiting for Jess in the Hub.

He smiled warmly at her. "Welcome, welcome, Miss Parker."

She did not respond and just stood there with watchful eyes, aware of everyone and everything in the room. Becker had been instructing her before he had died. Not only did she now know how to punch but she also knew how to watch a room and assess a potentially lethal situation. She didn't think this was what Becker had in mind during her lessons, but she sure as hell was going to put his excellent training to good use now.

"Please Miss Parker, I mean you no harm," Kabir said softly and Jess had the feeling that he was the spider beckoning she, the fly, into his parlour. He gave her goosebumps and not in a good way.

Kabir motioned her forwards and Mohammed nudged her with his rifle, making her stumble on her heels. His smile widening, Kabir placed his hand on the big red chair at the ADD.

"This is your chair, I believe, my dear. Please sit." His voice was placating and soft, and all the more menacing for it. Carefully, Jess eased herself into the chair.

"Now, tell me, Jess," continued Kabir in his quiet voice. "What does this device do?"

Jess remained mute. She couldn't have spoken even if she had wanted to, the words refused to form in her dry, constricted throat.

"What is it that you do here?" pressed Kabir. "What are those marvellous creatures you have downstairs?"

Still Jess said nothing. She just fiddled with her fingers in her lap. Kabir lost his patience. He thrust his face forward, so close to hers that she could feel his hot breath on her skin and his spit sprayed her chin.

"Tell me what you do here!" he commanded, his lip curled back in a snarl, eyes cold and hard.

"I - I -" stumbled Jess, terrified and in frustration Kabir brought the back of his hand across her cheek. Her head slammed into the backrest of the chair and Jess cried out in pain.

"You will tell me what I want to know," stated Kabir as if it was already decided. Jess's eyes teared and she sniffed miserably, knowing he was probably right.

Leaving Jess momentarily to contemplate her fate, Kabir turned his attention to Mohammed and Nasri.

"Check the rest of the building for stray soldiers," he ordered in Arabic. "Report back to me immediately should you find anything suspicious. And make sure the rest of our men have their areas secured."

Suddenly an alarm blared throughout the ARC and doors began automatically closing one after the other. A disembodied female voice floated through the deserted corridors repeating her mantra monotonously:

"LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN…"

Kabir ushered his men away hurriedly and spun round to glare at Jess.

"What have you done?" he demanded, his voice slightly panicked now.

She smiled benignly at him. "Nothing," she murmured innocently, although she had taken Kabir's momentary distraction to initiate the lockdown procedure.

Kabir ran to stand at her side, his eyes glancing from one ADD screen to another frantically trying to work out what was going on. Unfortunately each screen flashed the same message in time to the voice: "LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN…"

The terrorist sprinted back towards the corridor by the lift and saw doors closing, cutting him off from his men. He returned to the Hub slowly, almost nonchalantly, and stood at the top of the steps glaring at Jess, having now regained his composure.

"What is lockdown?" he asked her again, calmly and purposefully.

Jess stood up in front of the ADD, the flashing lights from the screens bouncing off her hair and making it glow. She lifted her chin and raised an eyebrow defiantly, hoping her haughty demeanour would belie the fear gnawing at her stomach, hoping her courage would hold out no matter what happened.

"Exactly what it says," she told him simply. "The ARC is locked down. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. No communications, no computer access. We are locked down." She almost smirked at him.

Kabir raised his rifle and moved like a prowling tiger towards her. "Then unlock it, young lady," he ordered. "Or I will shoot at you until you do."

Jess shook her head and Kabir cocked his gun.

"I can't!" Jess told him quickly. "That's the whole point of lockdown. It can't be undone from the inside. The only person who can lift the lockdown is in Whitehall and we have no way of requesting the cancellation procedure at present. Lockdown has to run its full course." Jess hoped she was better at lying right now than she normally was or this man was going to was going to make her suffer horribly. _As if he wasn't anyway_, she added as an afterthought.

"What kind of stupid procedure is this?" demanded Kabir, quite taken aback by the knowledge that an organisation had a protocol where its personnel deliberately trapped themselves inside with no means of escape.

Jess snorted derisively. "You've seen the creatures downstairs," she spat angrily. "You know what they are even if you don't want to believe it! Of course we have to have this kind of procedure!"

Kabir's eyes narrowed as he took in her words. "And what is its full course?" he asked quietly.

Jess met his eyes and decided to tell him a partial truth. "The procedure will suck out the oxygen room by room until the threat has been neutralized," she told him calmly. A partial truth because that used to be the case, well the one room anyway, until she had removed that particular protocol on Becker's order. She and Becker had revised the lockdown procedure quite rigorously since the demise of Philip Burton and the removal of Propero's influence from the ARC.

Kabir banged his fist on the ADD desk in frustration. Then he reached over and grabbed Jess's hair roughly, pulling on it until she squealed.

"You are a very silly little girl," he whispered menacingly in her ear and then shoved her back down into the big red seat. He leant over her and, using his looming body to intimidate her, trailed one finger down her cheek.

Becker watched the lockdown procedure take hold over the ARC from the darkness of the car park. No-one came out, no techs, no support staff, so he assumed Kabir was inside and in control. There was only one person who would have thought to initiate lockdown in these circumstances. Jess. Wonderful, brilliant Jess. And it meant she was still alive, for the moment. It also gave him the opportunity to get in unnoticed as the CCTV would be down along with the ADD.

Becker pulled his PDA, retrieved from its hiding place, from the holdall he had stolen from MI6. He smiled to himself, knowing he and only he, now had the power to stop Kabir. He accessed a file hidden on the internet, a file that only he, Jess and Lester knew about. A back door into the ARC systems. After the fiasco of previous lockdowns and Burton's clandestine "incineration programme" Lester had authorised Becker to revise the emergency systems at the ARC some months before and he had enlisted Jess's help. It had cost him some self-defence training (something he thought she needed anyway and would gladly have given her for free) but right now that decision was going to be worth its weight in gold.

Typing in his password, Becker brought up schematics of the ARC, the position of everyone's black box and access codes which gave him the power to partially unlock lockdown. In their revision of the protocols, Becker had instructed that the ARC be split into several different grids so that, using the correct access codes, certain areas could be unlocked and re-locked again during a lockdown procedure. This gave the team trapped inside greater freedom but also greater control during lockdown. The loss of oxygen protocol had been removed as Becker had decided it was more dangerous to human life than the actual creatures themselves.

Tentatively, he typed in the access code for the loading bay doors and held his breath. They had not had chance to test this particular part of the programme and he worried that it might not work.

Slowly, noiselessly, the heavy doors to the loading bay lifted upwards.

Becker patted his PDA and grinned. "Nice work Jess," he muttered and snuck under the door.

Once inside, Becker entered the code again and the door closed behind him. He checked the PDA for the black box signals, hoping Kabir hadn't confiscated them all. Most of the signals were in the Hub, where they would be if they were charging at the ADD, but one signal was all alone, out of place. He checked the identity number - Emily. And if Emily was there, chances are Matt would be too. He decided to find out. Hopefully, he may find Connor there too. He needed the scientist to facilitate his plan.

Letting himself silently into one of the ARC corridors, Becker contemplated the best route to take him to the storage room undetected. There was a noise at the other end of the corridor. Damn! He looked around for a means to conceal himself. Above him, the air conditioning ducts weaved their way through the entire ARC and, making a split second decision, Becker pulled himself up into the cold metal tube. Lying flat against the side, he waited for Kabir's men to pass under him, both complaining loudly in Arabic about all the locked doors. He smiled smugly, feeling very proud of Jess. He closed his eyes as her image flashed across his retina. He felt like he hadn't seen her in years and was suddenly desperate to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to see her legs disappearing under her very short skirt. _Focus Becker! _he chastised himself.

Looking at his PDA to check his route, he decided the safest way would be to follow the air conditioning ducts all the way to the storage room from where the black box signal originated. He began to crawl, the space far too small for his large frame. "Now I know how Bruce Willis felt," he muttered to himself. Then grinned. "Yippee-ki-yay, motherf****rs!"

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><p><strong>Hurray! Go Jess! Go Becker! :D<strong>

**AND GO YOU LOT - REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! :P**


	15. The Plan Begins

**A/N This chapter is dedicated to andrewleepotts who asked me to write a shirtless Connor being tortured (the evil and mean thing!). So, beware scenes of torture (but they're not too bad cos who can hurt poor ickle Connor!)**

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><p>Two of Kabir's men had been given watch in the corridor outside the storage room. And they were bored. They had heard the lockdown alarm and discovered they were trapped, with access only to a few corridors and rooms, and no means of contacting their leader. They argued heatedly about what to do. They were stuck and they needed some action. They had hostages - surely Kabir wouldn't mind if they entertained themselves a little?<p>

Inside the room, Matt was still unconscious but Abby and Emily had cleaned and tended his injuries as best they could. His face was bruised and bloodied, cuts on his forehead, his cheekbones, his jaw. Emily had pulled up his t-shirt and seen the brown-black bruises already starting to form on his ribs and stomach. She stroked his face gently, lovingly, wishing he would open his eyes.

Connor and Abby sat either side of Lester, glancing at each other occasionally for reassurance. Lester, for his part, was looking a little better. He still had a greyish tinge to his complexion with beads of sweat spattering his brow, but he was conscious and half sitting, leaning against a filing cabinet. Every now and then he would grimace and Abby would lean forward anxiously, fussing, but he would wave her away with a muttered "I'm ok, it doesn't hurt much," which no-one believed for a second.

One of the terrorists, a man named Faisal, unlocked the storage room door and leant against it. He poked Connor in the ribs with the muzzle of his rifle.

"You! Outside!" he commanded with a grin.

Abby cried out "No!" before she could stop herself and Connor's eyes flicked to hers. She lost herself momentarily in those deep brown eyes, telling her not to worry in silent communication, before Connor stood up and stepped out into the corridor. Lester reached out and patted her arm gently as Abby bit through her bottom lip.

Connor watched the two terrorists carefully as they shouted at each other in Arabic. He didn't understand a word, but it didn't sound good and he was sure it wasn't good for him. This was confirmed when Faisal slammed his fist into Connor's kidneys. Yelling in fear and pain, Connor dropped to one knee feeling like his insides had just imploded. And that was only the first hit. He knew he wasn't as brave as Matt or as stoic as Lester. Any more of this and he would probably cry like a girl. Faisal dragged him to his feet and persuaded the other man, Amir, to punch him again, this time in the face. Connor cried out again as the back of his head hit the corridor wall and he slid down it slowly, his vision becoming cloudy, consciousness groggy.

Faisal laughed and lit a cigarette. Both men sat down on the floor either side of Connor. Amir produced a large knife from the waistband of his jeans and cut Connor's t-shirt from neck to hem before pulling it off and discarding it across the corridor. Connor flinched as the cold steel scraped down his skin but as he was struggling to keep his eyes open he couldn't manage any greater reaction.

He screamed as something burned through his skin, the smell of singed flesh acrid in his nostrils. Looking down at himself he realised Faisal had just stubbed out his cigarette on his shoulder. Connor felt nauseous and light-headed. He closed his eyes and remembered her name. Abby. His beautiful, strong, fierce Abby. He felt a large tear form in the corner of his eye and hoped they let him live long enough for him to hold her in his arms again, to kiss her lips. He so wanted to marry her. He wanted to see how beautiful she would look in her wedding dress, like an angel, his angel -

He screamed again, a gut-wrenching, high-pitched sound as Faisal pressed the end of his cigarette down through the skin of his chest and he felt it scorching its way to his ribs. He heard the men's laughter before he willingly gave in to unconsciousness.

Abby began banging on the storage room door at the sound of Connor's screams.

"Connor!" she cried out desperately. "Connor!"

Emily left Matt's side to envelop the blonde girl in her arms and drag her away from the door. Abby fought her fiercely for a moment, convinced if she left the door that Connor would die, before losing all her energy and allowing Emily to comfort her.

Matt began to come round at the sound of Abby's screams. He sat up slowly, leaning against the storage room wall for support. He licked his lips and tasted blood in his mouth. Carefully placing a hand over his ribs as if that would stop the feeling that he'd been trampled by the mammoth over and over again, he managed a lopsided smile at the girls.

"Everyone ok?" he asked hoarsely.

Emily let go of Abby and flung her arms around his neck.

"Ouch!" he choked, but he was still smiling and he returned her embrace as best he could.

He looked over at Abby and frowned.

"Where's Connor?" he asked softly.

Before anyone could answer, there was a loud thud in the corridor. Followed by another and another.

Lester looked up concerned and Matt, Emily and Abby exchanged fearful glances. The door to the room swung open and a man in a turban entered dragging an unconscious, shirtless Connor, arms hooked under the scientist's shoulders.

Abby immediately leapt into action.

"Let go of him!" she thumped the terrorist as hard as she could, not really caring if the man retaliated. The man in the turban placed Connor on the floor on his side more gently than he should have and then shut the storage room door.

Matt struggled to his feet.

"What the hell have you done to him?" he demanded, with more bravado than he felt.

Abby pulled Connor's head onto her lap, stroking his hair and whispering inaudibly to him. She stroked his naked arms and chest, carefully fingering round his injuries, tears staining her cheeks. Raising her eyes to the man she could only choke out one word, "Why?"

Becker paused. No-one had recognised him. He looked down at himself for a moment. He was dressed in the same manner as Kabir's men. T-shirt, jeans and lungee. He had decided this would be most useful if he came into contact with any of the terrorists - hopefully they would mistake him for one of their own. He was grubby, making his dark complexion darker still. Over the past few months he had acquired quite a reasonable beard which covered much of his lower face and his hair, which had grown almost as long as Connor's, was matted and greasy.

He decided to use their lack of recognition to his advantage - at least this way, if Kabir got to them, they could not be tortured into telling the terrorist that he was here. He adopted the thick Afghani accent he had used whilst infiltrating the terrorist cell.

"The others have tortured him. I did not think it necessary," he told them.

"Who are you?" demanded Matt.

"My name is Ghafoor. I will try and help you if I can," Becker continued. "But I need him awake." He pointed to Connor and Abby shook her head.

"Please?" Becker hunkered down in front of her, but carefully avoided her eyes. "I cannot help you if you do not help me."

Abby glanced first at Matt and then at Lester. Both men nodded, realising they needed any help they were offered, no matter what the source.

Abby sighed heavily but began calling Connor's name gently, then louder, to bring him out of the darkness. She stroked his cheek and he smiled, knowing she was there and dreaming they were safe in their bed. Slightly annoyed that he was conscious but hadn't opened his eyes, Abby flicked his ear with her finger.

"Ow!" exclaimed Connor, suddenly trying to sit up. Then he hissed as pain flooded through him, making him feel nauseous again.

"Shhhhh, Connor," Abby soothed. "We need you."

"What?" he looked up and realised there was a turbaned man sat next to him. He screamed and nearly leapt into Abby's arms.

"I won't hurt you," said Ghafoor quietly. "You are Connor?"

Connor nodded silently, flicking his eyes to Abby for reassurance.

Ghafoor produced a PDA which he handed to Connor who just stared at the other man, confused.

"If I give you the access codes, can you control the ARC's systems from here?" Ghafoor asked cryptically.

"What?" asked Connor again.

"Connor! Can you do it?" demanded Ghafoor running out of patience.

Connor nodded. "Um, yeah, but what do you want me to do?"

Ghafoor handed Connor a piece of paper.

"That is a list of times and access codes. I need you to enter those codes at exactly those times to give me access to the ARC. It is the only way I can get to Kabir without being detected."

Lester head snapped up at these words. He stared hard at the terrorist.

"How do we know we can trust you?" he asked suspiciously.

Ghafoor lifted his head and stared back at Lester equally hard. Lester's eyes flickered wide for a moment in recognition and Ghafoor gave a minute shake of his head, a warning to Lester not to say anything, before looking away.

Lester coughed and looked at Matt, then Connor, then back to Ghafoor.

"I suppose we will just have to trust you," he stated flatly.

"I don't see that you have much choice," Ghafoor returned, a little harshly.

"What can you do all alone?" asked Matt, disparagingly.

"As much as I can," Ghafoor glanced at Matt briefly. "None of you are in any fit state to take on Kabir. I must go alone. Stay here quietly and wait. Connor, will you do as I have asked?"

Connor glanced at Lester who nodded.

"Yep, I've got you covered," he confirmed, his fingers already working on the keyboard of the PDA.

Ghafoor opened the door to leave then stopped and looked back into the room.

"Where's Jessica?" he asked suddenly, with more force than was necessary.

Lester answered him softly. "Kabir has her. In the Hub I think. You'll find her, won't you?" He raised his eyebrows hopefully at Ghafoor.

The would-be terrorist nodded once and disappeared into the corridor, stepping over the bodies of Faisal and Amir whose necks he had broken as he surprised them by exiting the air conditioning duct above their heads.

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><p><strong>Wow - two updates in one night, you lucky, lucky things! But I'm knackered now as its 2am so I'm off to bed (to dream what Becker does next of course!) :D<strong>

**Please write lots of reviews so I have something to look forward to at breakfast! :P**


	16. The Government Man

**A/N Wow - thanks to all who have reviewed, added to favourites & subscriptions! Its amazing and makes my day - every day! Anyway, here is the next chapter - but what has happened to Jess?**

**Disclaimer (because I haven't done one recently): I don't own anything (except my story and OCs) and intend no copyright infringement. But I quite fancy owning Becker thank you very much! Is he for sale? :P**

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><p>All eyes turned on Lester. It was Matt who voiced the questions they were all thinking.<p>

"James, who was that guy? How did he get access codes to the ARC?"

Lester sighed silently. His reply, he knew, would have to be good.

"I think he's a government man," he answered with certainty. "Just something about the way he moved, the expression on his face."

Matt still looked sceptical.

"Remember its not so long ago that we had a visit from MI6, concerning terrorists from Afghanistan," continued Lester. "It follows that we are a target, these are those same terrorists and that MI6 has sent someone from SIS to interrupt their plans." He paused to see if anyone was buying it. Abby, Emily and Connor seemed convinced but Matt was still frowning deeply.

"It would also explain how he had the codes to the ARC, something the security services would be capable of acquiring I'm sure." He was actually less convincing about that part, having more faith in Jess's abilities than anyone from MI6.

Matt rubbed his forehead, as if to remove the deep furrows from it, before voicing his concern.

"That's the part I don't get," he began. "What codes to the ARC? How can he have access to any of the ARC during lockdown?"

Lester sighed again, very audibly this time.

"After Burton and the beetle fiasco, Jess revised the entire lockdown procedure introducing a grid system for the ARC with codes that could access grids individually without affecting the integrity of the ARC as a whole. Its never been tested before."

"And why didn't I know about this?" demanded Matt, more than a little put out.

Lester glared at him. "It was instigated on a need to know basis, Anderson. You are team leader out in the field, that much is true, but this is an internal ARC protocol and therefore not your call."

"So, you knew, Jess knew and -" Matt paused as the penny dropped. "Becker. Becker did this!"

Lester nodded solemnly. "It was his idea. Being at the mercy of Burton never did sit well with him. He knew that he wanted greater mobility during lockdown without allowing a breach of the external walls, hence the grid system. He enlisted Jess's help with the computer program and allocated codes and passwords to me, Jess and himself. He removed the automatic oxygen deprivation protocol although it can still be initiated manually as a last resort. But the incineration program instigated by Burton has been completely disengaged." Lester paused and looked around at the wide-eyed, incredulous faces of his team.

He shrugged. "Hopefully it will prove to be a useful system, allowing this MI6 man to pick off the terrorists one grid at a time."

"How did MI6 get the codes?" asked Connor, curious about the computer program that Jess had set up and a little bit miffed that she hadn't needed his help.

"Jess left a small file hidden on the internet. It was supposed to have been protected by several firewalls but I guess an SIS agent may have been able to discover it. They are supposed to be the intelligence service after all." Lester's usual sarcasm leaked into his last sentence. He winced and moved his hand to hold his thigh, more through trying to distract the team from their line of questioning than being in any greater pain than before.

His movement reminded Connor of his own injuries and Abby moved quickly but carefully to dress the cigarette burns to prevent any infection. She was also very aware of his shirtless state and glanced imploringly at Matt who grinned and shrugged out of his jacket. He handed it to Connor.

"Wouldn't want you to get cold, mate," he told the younger man with a smirk.

Connor took the jacket gratefully and Abby felt almost disappointed as she helped him into it.

Before anyone could ask Lester anymore probing questions, the PDA bleeped, reminding Connor of his technical support duties. He carefully typed in the code Ghafoor had given him. On the screen was a schematic of the ARC, broken down into grids illuminated by blue lines. On one grid the lights flashed before blinking off completely as the locks disengaged momentarily in that section. Connor had to wait for only ten minutes before re-entering the code and re-initiating lockdown in that grid.

"What's his first destination?" asked Matt, curiously.

Connor squinted at the screen. "The Menagerie," he said. He looked up, confused. "Why's he going to the Menagerie?"

Matt and Abby exchanged a glance and then Matt looked at Lester.

"The security team are imprisoned down there. I guess he's gone to enlist some help."

"Ah, Hutchens will prove useful, I'm sure," Lester nodded with satisfaction.

Matt and Abby exchanged glances again and Abby suppressed a small sob with her hand. Connor gripped her arm concerned and Matt looked sadly at Emily.

"Hutchens is dead," he mumbled as if not quite believing it himself.

"What?" demanded Lester.

"He died saving the rest of his men," Matt explained. "Abby and I were made to watch. It wasn't a pleasant way to go."

Connor, Emily and Lester looked from Matt to Abby in confusion.

"The Noasaurus," Abby stated simply and from the looks on their faces, everyone understood.

Becker waited until the red lights disappeared from the keypad next to the door before pushing it open and entering Abby's lab. Once inside he made his way down to the Menagerie. He had hacked the CCTV on his PDA before finding the team in the storage room. (One benefit from seeing Jess in action over the revision of the lockdown protocols - she hacked and he paid attention!). He knew the security team were in the Menagerie and he knew that some of them were in a bad way. There were at least three bodies in the cell. Carefully and quietly he made his way down the ramp and through the reinforced door.

Lt. Carter was immediately on alert as soon as the large door began grating open. Firstly it was a dreadful sound, a low scraping that echoed round the entire cell, and secondly, he had just seen two of his men murdered indirectly by the terrorists and his Captain willingly give his life to save the rest. At this point he was ready to defend against anything! He was curious about the turbaned man who entered the dark, cavernous room. He was alone and seemingly unarmed and scenarios to take this man down flashed through Carter's head. For the moment, however, he indicated to his men to remain stationary as he crossed the concrete floor to meet the stranger.

"Lt Carter, where's Hutchens?" demanded the stranger in a heavy accent but with an authority and familiarity that unnerved Carter.

"What?" he asked, before he could stop himself. "Hutchens is dead," he then snapped bitterly, indicating the bloody mess that used to be the Captain.

Becker started in surprise and jogged to the corpse of his friend. He dropped down to one knee, ridges furrowing his brow, his teeth grinding with emotion. Looking at the position of Hutchens and that of the dinosaur it was clear to him what had happened and he felt a surge of pride that he had known this man.

"Thank you, John," he murmured softly. "You won't be forgotten."

Feeling Lt Carter staring at him, he stood and walked back to his 2IC to be met with a fist in the face. Becker went down, hard, on the concrete. As he fell, Carter moved in to follow up his assault with well-timed kicks and punches that had Becker curled up like a baby, arms up to protect his head. Eventually, Becker saw an opening and brought Carter down beside him with a well aimed kick to the back of the knee.

"When you're quite finished Carter!" he exclaimed in his normal voice as he removed his lungee.

He had the satisfaction of seeing Lt. Carter do a huge double take and his chin drop to the floor.

"But, but, but -" Carter stuttered.

Becker sat up and rubbed his hand through his long hair.

"Tales of my death have been greatly exaggerated!" he quipped with a smirk. "It really is me, Carter. I can explain but it will have to wait until later. Right now, we have some animals to remove from the ARC. I need your help."

"Absolutely!" affirmed Carter immediately. He stood and held out his hand to help Becker to his feet. "What's the plan?"

By this time, the men had noticed and moved forward for a closer look at the stranger. Two words began as a murmur and became a roar as they went from man to man: "Captain Becker!"

Becker gave them a slightly embarrassed salute and Carter motioned to them to quieten down.

"Ok," said Becker. "First, we have to get to the armoury. We're not going into this without weapons. And I mean guns, not EMDs."

Carter nodded his approval. Hell, it would feel good to hold a real gun again!

Thanks to Connor, they reached the armoury without incident. It was patrolled by two terrorists who were easily taken down by Carter and his army of highly agitated soldiers.

Becker handed out all manner of firearms to the men. He took a couple of handguns for himself, and a thick handled, serrated knife which he suddenly thought might come in handy. He glanced at his watch. There wasn't much time before Connor entered the next access code. He took Lt Carter to one side and explained the rest of his plan.

"From here, the ARC will open and close behind you, section by section, in a clockwise direction. I want you and your men to clear each section of terrorists until the ARC is secure."

He handed Carter a walkie-talkie and hid another one in his inside jacket pocket. "Keep in contact when you can," he told his 2IC.

Carter nodded. "Wait. Me and my men? What are you going to do?"

Becker's eyes narrowed and hardened. "Kabir has Jess," he stated flatly and Carter immediately understood. He nodded to the Captain once and offered him a thin smile. Becker nodded back in acknowledgement before swinging himself up into the ventilation ducts once more.

"Its good to have you back, Captain Becker," murmured Carter, before instructing his men to move out.

Lester sat deep in thought, closing his eyes as if that would prevent the others from seeing inside his head. The strange, turbaned man was Becker, of that he was sure. He would have recognised those expressive hazel eyes anywhere and was astonished that the others had not. However, Becker had been careful not to look too long at the others, and they had not had the benefit of knowing that only three people in the world had the access codes to the ARC. That was what had given Becker away to Lester, truth be told.

He wondered how the team would react to the revelation that Becker was still alive. They all would react differently, he knew, and he tried to prepare himself for each individual response.

Matt, he was sure, would take it all in his stride. The Irishman was particularly difficult to perturb, completely unflappable and would probably just be glad to see the Captain alive than to hold a grudge against him.

Emily, ever pragmatic, ever practical, would of course be very ladylike about the whole thing. She would receive the Captain back with open arms, accepting whatever explanation he gave and forgiving him. She would be forthright in her opinion of the rights and wrongs of his explanation, but she would forgive him nonetheless.

Abby and Connor were less certain. Erratic, over-emotional and particularly attached to Becker, one might expect them to be overly demonstrative and upset with his deception. Lester would expect them to be unhappy about being excluded from the secret and even a few tantrums may follow. However, he did expect them to be ecstatic to find him alive and well and this excitement would fuel their willingness to forgive him and welcome Becker back wholeheartedly.

No, it was Jess that would be problematic. He had watched the young woman fall apart over the death of Captain Becker; a man Lester was fairly certain Jess was in love with. She had only just pulled herself together again, after she had finally accepted Captain Hutchens, and Lester wondered if Becker's reappearance would send her fragile recovery into freefall.

He shook his head slowly. He had been truthful that night of the funeral, when he'd told the team they were a family. Lester looked on each of them like one of his own. He'd always had a deep level of respect for Becker, one reason he had insisted on re-instating the Captain in the new ARC two years ago. And his soft spot for Jess grew softer by the day - not that he would admit that out loud to any one and would have anyone who even suggested it flogged to within an inch of their lives. But, as such, he was fiercely protective of both of them, and of the entire team, carefully covering it up with sarcasm and disdain.

Sitting on the cold, hard floor of the storage room, his leg throbbing and aching as his body grew stiff, Lester was determined that Becker had better have a damned good explanation for all of this.

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><p><strong>AN So, we find out what happened to Jess next...please review and put a little sunshine in my rainy day! :D**


	17. The Team

**A/N Wow - over 150 reviews! I can't believe it! Thank you so much everyone - you are all wonderful! :D  
><strong>

**I had planned on making this the last chapter - but Jnevadub's review hotwired my brain and now I have two new chapters to write! Something like: "Seriously, you're not going to make the team sit and wait in the storage room?" And she was right - the team would not just sit and wait in the storage room! So, here is what they did...**

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><p>Matt strode across the room towards Lester, his whole body protesting at the movement. He sat down next to his boss and murmured quietly.<p>

"He may be a government man, but he's not an MI6 man, is he?" It didn't sound like a question to Lester and he pursed his lips but didn't reply. So Matt continued in the same low voice, to avoid the others overhearing.

"And Jess's firewalls are impenetrable. It would take someone like Connor to disable them. And why was he so interested in Jess?"

Lester remained silent and Matt's brain went into overdrive, trying to conceive all possible reasons why the man had gained such easy access to the ARC. He came up with only one before Connor exclaimed loudly.

"Oh! That's weird!"

"What's weird?" asked Emily, leaning forward in an attempt to see the small laptop.

Connor looked up from the screen, frowning in confusion. You could almost see the cogs whizzing round in his head as he tried to join the dots.

"I was thinking about what Lester said, about the revised protocols for lockdown."

Matt and Lester both started in surprise. Neither had been expecting that; Matt raised an eyebrow, intrigued and Lester looked a little apprehensive.

Connor looked at their boss. "You said Jess had hidden the code file on the internet protected by several firewalls. Well, I've just hacked into this laptop's main drive and the MI6 man has forgotten to delete all its history."

Connor raised his eyebrows and smiled as if that explained everything. The others just stared at him blankly.

"What did you find out Connor?" asked Abby gently, reminding him that they were unable to see inside his head and that he needed to tell them.

"Oh right," Connor grinned. "Well, the history tells me exactly how the man has been using this laptop. I can tell if he's hacked into anywhere, if he has disabled any firewalls or circumvented any security protocols - it would all show up in the laptop's history."

"So?" probed Abby.

"So -" Connor paused hearing a drum roll in his head. "That guy didn't do any of that. He didn't hack into Jess's file, he hasn't disabled any firewalls to read the access codes - he didn't need to!"

Matt's inkling caught up with Connor's evidence.

"He already knew where the file was and how to access it, right?" Matt supplied.

Connor nodded. "Yep. He just used a password. Hang on, that's even weirder!" Connor paused again. "It's the same password as Becker's hotmail account!"

Lester rolled his eyes and groaned. Matt grinned hugely.

"How do you know the password to Becker's hotmail account?" asked Abby suddenly.

"Hacked it, didn't I?" Connor replied proudly.

"But I still don't understand. What does this mean?" asked Emily, moving towards Matt, unable to hide her confusion. She was settling in well in this time, but that didn't mean she understood everything, especially when it came to computers and Connor's convoluted explanations!

Matt took her hand in his and met Lester's eyes.

"You said there are only three people in the world who knew about that file and had a password to access it. Yourself, Jess and Becker," he stated, challenging Lester to argue with him. When the older man did not, Matt ploughed on. "You're stuck in here, Jess is with the terrorists - which only leaves one person and he's dead. Unless he's not dead. That would also explain why he was so interested in Jess -"

He left his sentence hanging in the air hoping the rest of the team would catch on.

"Becker!" cried Connor excitedly. "Oh my God, its Becker isn't it! He's alive?"

Lester nodded once and sighed. "I knew it was him as soon as he said he had the codes. But he definitely didn't want you to know. I suppose he has finally realised what a liability you lot are."

Matt harrumphed. "Well, liability or not, we're not going to just sit here and do nothing. Connor, can you run two access programs simultaneously?"

"Uh, yeah, shouldn't be a problem. Pretty much have access to the whole damn system now cos I'm just that good!"

Matt ignored the younger man's attempt to illicit a compliment and formulated a plan.

"Right. Here's what we're going to do. I am assuming Kabir has made the hub his centre of operations - makes sense - and that he will have Jess there with him. That's where Becker is going - and so are we. He's got the security men cleaning out the rest of the ARC, we are going to be his backup in the Hub. He may not believe he needs help, but I do. Everyone ok with that?"

Emily and Abby nodded.

"Yes, well, I'm in no fit state to go anywhere," said Lester dryly, shifting himself into another position, which was unfortunately no more comfortable than the last.

"No James, you stay here." said Matt. "We'll come back for you when its done."

"Matt, I can't run around the ARC and concentrate on this at the same time either!" complained Connor.

"Yep I figured that. Connor you can stay and keep Lester company," Matt told him.

Lester groaned. "Great. The ARC has been taken over by terrorists and I've got a gunshot wound - but at least I'll have the irritating computer nerd for company!"

"Hey, I'm not irritating - much!" grinned Connor, not taking any offence at all.

"Emily, Abby - you're with me. We'll try and find weapons as we go." Matt, Emily and Abby all stood.

"Matt, what about the door? Isn't it locked?" asked Emily.

"Hmmmm I have a theory about that," said Matt with a smirk. He tried the door and it swung open easily. Matt grinned. "He knew we wouldn't just sit here and wait!"

Abby and Emily hurried out of the door and into the corridor. Matt stopped in the doorway and turned to Lester.

"You'll be ok here, James?" he asked gently.

Lester waved him away disdainfully. "Yes, yes, we'll be fine. What could possibly happen - apart from me hitting Connor repeatedly over the head with the laptop?"

Connor grinned. "Go Matt. I'll keep the boss from bleeding to death, I promise!"

Becker crawled uncomfortably through the ventilation ducts until he was directly over the Hub. Silently he removed an access panel and stared down into the darkened room. He scanned the room, picking out Jess immediately, but he couldn't see Kabir. But that didn't mean he wasn't down there somewhere. Becker figured if he wasn't with Jess, he was probably sitting comfortably in Lester's office which, coincidentally, was the only area of the Ops Room he couldn't see from his vantage point.

His attention turned back to Jess and he became concerned as he stared at her. She was bound by her hands and feet to the big red chair at the ADD. She had lost her shoes and her blouse and was clad only in a short green skirt and a soft cream bra. Her head lolled forward but Becker couldn't tell if she was unconscious or just hanging her head in defeat. Suddenly he had to know. It didn't matter where Kabir was, he had to make sure Jess was ok. It went against every soldiering instinct he had, went against the fundamental rule: first neutralize the threat, then rescue any civilians. But he couldn't help it, he had to know.

He swung down from the ventilation duct, hanging in mid-air for a few moments, eyes flicking round the room, still watchful for Kabir. He saw no movement so lowered his feet to the floor and snuck quickly and quietly to the ADD. He gasped as he saw her clearly for the first time. She had been badly beaten. Dried blood trails stained her face and her arms and legs showed signs of bruising. But worse than that were the little bloody pinpricks across her shoulders and neck which Becker knew were the result of Kabir pushing the point of his knife into her skin.

Ever so gently he cupped her jaw with his hand and lifted her head a fraction. She didn't respond at first and he realised she was unconscious. He whispered her name and stroked her hair softly, his heart close to breaking. Her eyes flickered open, glazed at first as she found her bearings, then fearful as she focused on him. She flinched away from him and Becker realised that to her he looked like a terrorist. Well, that was a good thing. He couldn't reveal himself to her now, he had no idea how she would react.

"Its ok Miss Parker," he tried to reassure her in his thick Afghani accent. "I won't harm you. I'm here to help you."

She cringed away from him, whimpering softly, as he reached behind her and began to loosen the ropes that bound her hands and feet. Her skin felt cold so he shucked out of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, feeling her pain every time she winced. She looked at him, just for a moment, and his heart leapt out of his chest and into his throat as he saw the agony in her brilliant blue eyes. He gripped her chin suddenly making her eyes widen fearfully again but there was one thing he had to know.

"Miss Parker, are you hurt? Did he hurt you?" He placed heavy emphasis on the word "hurt" and Jess just stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Becker tried to indicate her state of undress, hoping she would understand what he was driving at without him actually having to say the words. Thankfully, she seemed to realise what he was asking.

"No," she whispered. "Just a few cuts and bruises. Not that way." She shivered, horrified by the thought.

Becker nodded once and stroked her cheek, the relief evident in his eyes.

"Let me get you out of here, Miss Parker," he told her gently, leaning back down to finish untying the ropes.

He didn't see the man creeping up behind them but he heard the sickening crack of metal on skull and saw Jess's feet go limp. He felt the cold muzzle of the gun press against his neck and heard Kabir greet him in Arabic.

"Hello Becker. I was hoping you'd show up!" Kabir laughed malevolently. "Stand up slowly, hands behind your head."

Becker complied immediately and Kabir leaned forward to remove the pistol from the waistband of his jeans, discarding it across the room. Becker heard it clatter under one of the desks to his left.

"Move backwards slowly, then turn around to face me. I want to see the look in your eyes when I kill her!" Kabir laughed again, thoroughly enjoying his moment.

Becker shuffled back away from Jess and turned around to look into the eyes of the man who had caused him so much grief over the past few months.

Kabir was tall and lean to the point of skinny. But he had a maniacal glint in his eyes and an air of authority that made others follow and obey him. He had a deep scar down the right side of his face, reputed to be of his own making, a story which made him a legend in Afghanistan.

"You have me, Kabir," Becker told him, softly. "Let the girl go."

"I have been waiting five years for this Becker!" spat Kabir. "You don't really think I'm going to give up my prize so easily do you? I want you to suffer, Becker, and I know you well - you will suffer most through her screams. And she's a screamer - believe me!"

Becker swallowed hard and attempted to move slightly to hide Jess behind his own body.

Kabir grinned. "That's unlikely to help, Becker. I can kill her at will. But first I want to tell you how I have been entertaining myself in your absence."

"I think I have seen the evidence of that for myself," said Becker harshly.

Kabir chuckled and Becker's hands fisted at his sides as the terrorist continued to present a blow by blow account of how he had tortured Miss Parker.

Connor concentrated on dropping the door locks in two areas of the ARC. First, he had to ensure Lt Carter and his soldiers could continue their eradication of the terrorists without leaving them trapped. Second, he had to open the way to the Ops Room for Matt, Emily and Abby, through an area not yet cleared by the security team and without knowing if they were about to run into any hostile persons. It was nerve-wracking and Lester's constant enquiries into what was happening really wasn't helping.

Matt, Abby and Emily had made it to the science lab one corridor away from the Hub without incident. They waited quietly for Connor to open the door ahead so they could traverse the three hundred metres or so of corridor that ended with the Ops Room. The lights on the door control panel went green and Matt pushed his way through it, indicating the girls to follow.

Halfway down the corridor, Emily stopped, hearing a noise behind them. As she and Abby swung round, two terrorists emerged from a side room and started shouting and gesturing at them. Without thinking the girls ran towards the men leaving Matt standing, gawping after them.

Emily grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall as she passed it, the only weapon they had between them. Abby reached the first man and to his surprise kicked him hard in the jaw in a similarly athletic move that she had used on the Mer creature a few years before. Emily swung the fire extinguisher, catching the second man off guard and sending him sprawling. Switching sides, Abby kicked the downed man hard in the head and he stopped moving, unconscious. Emily brought the fire extinguisher forcefully down on the first terrorists temple as he tried to catch his breath from Abby's kick to his neck. He collapsed with a grunt and lay still. By the time Matt had ambled over to them, his bruised and battered bones aching, his assistance was no longer required.

"Nice work ladies," Matt murmured, incredulously but tinged with pride.

Abby and Emily exchanged a hi-five and a grin before pushing past Matt and sashaying back down the corridor. Matt watched them for a moment, before shaking his head with a smile and following.

Connor released the lock on the entrance to the Ops Room and the team headed through it much more cautiously this time. Rounding the Rec Area, they heard voices echoing through the large, empty room. Kabir was telling Becker what he had done, and what he intended yet to do, to Jess. Matt felt ill listening to it and Emily and Abby gritted their teeth in disgust.

Slowly and quietly they moved further into the Ops Room until they could see the two men and Jess beyond them. Kabir had his back to the team but Becker caught the movement in the corner of his eye and tensed.

"Oi!" Matt shouted and Kabir was momentarily distracted. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Becker.

His arm flipped out in a sudden, sharp movement and knocked the handgun from Kabir's hand. The terrorist barely had time to react before he felt the full force of Becker's body launch him backwards off his feet and into the middle of the Ops Room away from Jess. The two men struggled on the floor for superiority before Kabir managed to hurl Becker against a desk with a loud clatter. Becker stood quickly, never once taking his eyes off Kabir.

"Get Jess out of here!" he called to Matt behind him, as he watched Kabir retrieve a large, black-handled knife from his jacket. Immediately on the defensive, Becker removed the serrated knife he had recovered from the armoury and planted his feet firmly, his knees slightly bent, ready for Kabir's attack.

Becker smiled sardonically at Kabir, giving him a "come and get it" gesture with his free hand. Kabir did not need asking twice…

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><p><strong>It didn't turn out quite as I had imagined it - but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! Please review and let me know what you think! :D<strong>

**Next chapter should be the last one - and Becker is revealed to Jess! Eeeek!  
><strong>


	18. The Fight

**A/N I struggled with this chapter (as you can probably tell since its taken me about 3 days to write!) and I'm still not overly happy with it but its the best I've got! I have tried to make it exciting but not sure what I've achieved! I'm hoping you are all going to tell me...please? :D**

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><p>"Matt, get Jess out of here!" Becker bellowed, all traces of his accent gone.<p>

Matt smiled, now in no doubt of Ghafoor's real identity. It was damned good to hear that man's voice.

He, Emily and Abby moved across the Ops Room floor to Jess at the ADD. Abby and Emily gasped when they saw her, Abby covering her mouth horrified.

Matt examined the unconscious young woman. She had a fairly sizeable cut to her head, received when Kabir had hit her with his gun, but the bleeding was slowing. He carefully untied the ropes which bound her hands and feet while Abby and Emily attempted to rouse her.

She came to slowly, groggy and disorientated. Matt pushed her arms into the sleeves of the far too large jacket she was wearing, Becker's he presumed, and raised an eyebrow at her state of undress. Then between him, Abby and Emily they carefully lifted her from the chair and supported her weight as they made the trek back across the Ops Room to the steps.

Jess's head felt heavy and sore. She clung to consciousness, attempting to keep her eyes from closing. Somehow she was moving and then she became aware of the arms around her. Panicked she tried to get away, struggling against her captors. Someone "shhhh-ed" her comfortingly and she tried to focus.

"Its ok Jess," the voice continued softly. "Its me, Matt."

"Matt!" Jess cried, her voice high and shrill. "Matt!" she cried out again, her voice resounding round the Hub.

Becker stood very still as Kabir launched his first attack, wielding his large knife like a sword, which Becker parried easily and in return jarred Kabir in the jaw with his elbow. Kabir leapt back and readied himself for his next assault, tossing the knife from left hand to right and back again.

Becker was not afraid. He knew that he was better at this than Kabir. And he knew Kabir knew it too. He just had to wait for that one little mistake, the one slight error on Kabir's part, and he would gain the opportunity to silence Kabir once and for all. Patience, that was all it would take and Becker had plenty of patience. Kabir had no patience at all and was constantly on the attack, which Becker would guard against again and again, giving Kabir no quarter, no opening of any kind to press his attack home.

Suddenly Jess's cry resonated through the Ops Room. Becker, momentarily distracted by the sound of her voice, defended Kabir with his forearm instead of his knife. Kabir's large blade sliced through the flesh of his arm like soft butter and Becker yelped in pain and surprise, leaping back away from Kabir cradling his injury and hissing as the skin smarted.

Kabir laughed. "I've got you now, Becker," he said in triumph.

"Hardly," stated Becker flatly, satisfied that his wound was mostly superficial, although the warm trickle of blood would make his knife hand slippery.

Kabir grinned malevolently and lunged forward, knife flashing under the dim Hub lights. Becker switched hands with his knife, grateful to the hours and hours he had spent training himself to be ambidextrous, and struck out as he dodged Kabir. He knew his knife had hit its mark as Kabir grunted in pain and a red gash appeared across the front of his t-shirt. Now it was Becker's turn to smile.

Matt, Emily and Abby had managed to half drag, half carry Jess to the steps at the far end of the Ops Room. Here Matt stopped, panting, his bruised body protesting with each step. _Must have a couple of cracked ribs, _he thought to himself.

"Stop, I have to stop," he told the girls. "Just for a minute."

They sat Jess down on the steps and Abby put her arms around her for support.

Emily went immediately to Matt and helped him sit on the steps too, her hands touching his arms and his face in concern. He smiled at her reassuringly but his eyes told a different tale. He was in an awful lot of pain and Emily knew it. She sat down next to him, pulling his head onto her shoulder and kissing his hair gently. "Its ok," she murmured. "We'll rest for a moment."

Abby sat on the steps, Jess in her arms, and watched Becker in action. The sound of the knives making contact echoed through the room setting her teeth on edge. She realised Becker was injured and frowned, worried for the man she had thought was dead. Then she watched him strike back at Kabir, a sudden slash across the terrorist's chest which Kabir had left unprotected and she almost cheered. The two men circled each other cautiously between the desks that lined the Ops Room.

_Its like watching Star Wars but without the light sabres, _she thought randomly and smiled. _Connor would have loved this! _Then she bit her lip, knowing this was real life and someone was going to die.

Becker parried again, Kabir's attack jarring all the way up his arm to his shoulder. The fight grew increasingly physical as Kabir's assaults became more and more desperate. Gripping Becker's injured forearm, Kabir forced the soldier onto one of the technician's tables and managed to gain a small scrape across the solider's cheek in the process. Becker grunted and rolled over the table onto the floor before regaining his footing.

Kabir jumped over the desk and straight into Becker's blade, slicing a deep gash into his shoulder. The terrorist yelled in pain and clutched at his wound, blood seeping through his fingers. He bared his teeth at Becker and made a foolhardy rush at him. Becker met him halfway and, using Kabir's own momentum, knocked him to the ground, pinning him there, trying to find an opening in the terrorist's scrabbled defence to press his knife home. Becker pushed him down, Kabir pushed back, inching his knife close to Becker's face.

Suddenly, Kabir surged upwards and rolled Becker over until the leaner man was on top, forcing his knife towards Becker's throat. Now it was Becker's turn to defend. Hastily, he gripped his own knife between his teeth and grasped Kabir's forearms in his hands, bracing against them hard to prevent Kabir from slicing his throat.

Becker's hand to hand combat training kicked in and he entangled his legs with Kabir's and twisted the terrorist's hips, forcing them to roll over again. Becker disengaged from the struggle and found his feet, this time staying crouched low, waiting for Kabir to make his move.

Abby watched as Kabir stood slowly, wiping the blood that had trickled down from his shoulder to his hand onto his trousers. Becker didn't move, crouched low, one hand in contact with the floor, staring up at Kabir. He reminded Abby of a future predator waiting to strike its prey and she shuddered. She didn't think she'd ever seen Becker look so predatory before and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Kabir moved forward quickly, knife at the ready. Still Becker didn't move. Everything was in slow motion for him now, as it always was when he was in combat. At the last second, Becker ducked to the side, lunging his knife upwards into Kabir's exposed thigh and twisting it 180 degrees to cruelly open the deep wound. Kabir screamed in pain and fear and anger, sprawling on the floor as his leg gave way beneath him.

Becker lost not a moment. He leapt onto Kabir, knocking the knife from the terrorists hands. Kabir fought viciously, knowing he was now fighting for his life. His hand became his weapons as he dug and gouged and tore at Becker's arms and face, trying to disrupt his assault.

Becker ignored every punch, every gouge into his skin by Kabir's fingers, even though they left deep bruise marks on his face and neck. He hauled Kabir from the floor with one hand, his knife at the ready in the other. Pinning the terrorist to the ADD with his body weight alone, he brought the knife to Kabir's neck and leant forward so their faces were only inches apart.

"Now, its finished," he growled, low and deep.

Kabir grinned and brought his knee up hard into Becker's groin. Becker grunted and froze as pain flooded through him in waves. He battled not to lose his concentration and felt Kabir push up against his body at the momentary distraction. Becker's superior will power gained control over the pain quickly and slammed Kabir back down onto the ADD, his elbow crushing the man's neck.

Seconds later, Becker thrust the serrated blade of his knife through the terrorist's eye socket and lodged it in the ADD. Becker stepped back as sparks erupted from the control panel and Kabir juddered and convulsed as electricity racked his body until he lay still, finally dead, the smell of singed flesh lingering in the air.

Becker panted and sagged against the ADD exhausted for a moment. He reached over and checked Kabir's pulse, just to satisfy himself that the man was truly dead.

"Now," he murmured. "Stay away from me."

He pushed back off the ADD and staggered slightly. He leaned forward, eyes closed, his arms supporting him on his thighs, like a runner after a marathon, his breathing still heavy, his heart still racing, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His eyes darted around the room as soon as he opened them again, searching for threats. Finding none, his eyes focused on a metal object beneath one of the desks - his handgun. Gratefully, he bent to pick it up and then stuffed it into the waistband of his jeans behind his back. It felt good to have the cold metal against his skin. He felt more at peace knowing it was there.

Huffing out a heavy breath, he stood straight, his body aching, and began to make his way towards the steps and the exit to the Ops Room. He was surprised to see Matt, Emily, Abby and Jess all sitting there. Increasing his pace, anger in every step, he shouted at Matt.

"I thought I told you to get her out of here!"

Matt stood, a little shakily, but under his own power.

"Don't you start giving orders around here, mate, you're supposed to be dead!" he retorted, harshly.

That stopped Becker in his tracks and his face softened.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he murmured, sheepishly. He looked at Jess, nestled in Abby's shoulder.

"How is she?" he asked gently.

Abby looked down at her friend, then back up at Becker. "Not great. She needs medical attention."

Becker nodded. "I want her out of here. I don't want her to see that -" he inclined his head towards the ADD and the dead terrorist.

"We'll go back to the storage room." said Matt. "We need to let Lester and Connor know what's happened anyway."

Becker leant down close to Abby and lifted Jess into his arms as if she were no heavier than a flower. Wincing slightly until he had gained control over his pain, he shifted her into a comfortable position, one arm around her back, the other crooked under her knees. Without another word, he stalked out of the Ops Room back towards the storage room where he had first found the team. Matt, Emily and Abby exchanged glances and then followed.

Jess had been drifting in and out of consciousness all through the fight in the Ops Room but was jolted awake as she was lifted into the air. Afraid she might fall, she raised her arms and clung onto whatever it was that was transporting her through the ARC. The sensation was familiar and comfortable and she realised through her groggy state that she was clutching a man, maybe Matt? She tightened her arms around his neck and buried her face in the soft, hard chest against her cheek. She wrinkled her nose. The man smelled and not particularly nice. He was clearly unwashed and smelled of sweat and blood and grime. But she recognised something else, a scent hidden underneath all the other smells. A scent she had grown accustomed to sometime before whilst being carried through the ARC. Her eyes were closed and she allowed herself to remember. She remembered his strong arms lifting her, him holding her close against his chest, burying herself in his firm muscles and breathing in that mixture of mild aftershave and metallic gunpowder. That was what she could smell now, lingering under the sweat and dirt. But that was impossible. Kabir must have hit her head so hard she was hallucinating. The man in her dream was dead.

They reached the storage room, stepping over the two dead terrorists outside the door. Entering the room, Jess opened her eyes and looked up. To her horror she discovered the man holding her was a terrorist. She took in his turban, his long hair and his beard and struggled against him, crying out, "Let me go! Let me go!"

Becker, surprised by her struggles, gently lowered her legs, guiding her feet to the floor. As Jess slid down his body, her arm that was curled around his neck, trailed down his back to his waist. Her hand touched something hard and metallic at the top of his waistband and she knew immediately what it was. Her fingers curled around the grip and she leapt away from him, training the handgun at the terrorist.

"Stay away from us or I will shoot you!" she threatened with determination, even though her hands shook slightly with the weight of the gun. Becker raised his hands, palms forward, silently.

"I mean it," repeated Jess firmly. "One move and I will shoot you."

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><p><strong>So, I hope that was ok. So the big reveal is next! How will Jess react? EEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK! :D<strong>

**PLEASE REVIEW! I'M SO NERVOUS ABOUT THIS CHAPTER! :/**


	19. The Reveal

**A/N OK really worried about this chapter too! I had it all in my head but not sure I quite achieved what I wanted. Please comment, particularly if there is anywhere I should make revisions! Anyway, I hope its ok. The team react to Becker being alive - and Jess gets something she never expected! :D**

**Oh and when Becker lists his accomplishments as a reason for going home to rest - I'd like to thank andrewleepotts for that as I have stolen it almost word for word! :P  
><strong>

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><p>"I mean it," repeated Jess. "One move and I will shoot you."<p>

Connor dropped the PDA and pushed himself up, leaning down to help Lester to his feet. No-one else moved, no-one said anything as Becker stood there with his hands in the air in front of Jess's gun.

Then Abby stepped forward, slowly, her hands up too.

"Its ok Jess, really, its ok," she murmured soothingly and placed herself between Becker and the gun.

"Abby - get out of the way!" cried Jess, in real distress.

Abby walked up to the turbaned man and put her arms around his neck. Kissing his cheek softly, she murmured in his ear.

"Its wonderful to see you Becker, but perhaps you should take your turban off now and stop freaking everybody out."

She reached up and undid the knot at the side of the turban, carefully pulling the cloth from his head. His hair tumbled out, nearly as long as Connor's and Abby mussed it affectionately. Then she stepped back allowing the others to greet Captain Becker.

Emily hugged him fervently. "Welcome back Captain, we missed you," she told him warmly.

Matt reached out his hand to shake Becker's then pulled the Captain into a bear hug, hard enough to make both men wince in pain. "You're still a total arse - but I'm glad you're not dead," he told his friend with feeling. Becker smiled and patted Matt's back appreciatively.

"Action Man!" Connor bounced over, like a puppy dog, somehow finding his enthusiasm again after his ordeal at the hands of the terrorists. He literally threw himself at Becker in his excitement, catching every injury Becker had in the process. The soldier hissed as pain shot through his body like multiple lightning strikes.

"Nice to see you too, Temple," he muttered through gritted teeth, but he meant it.

Connor pulled away and turned to hug Abby, pressing a kiss to her cheek, grateful that she was unscathed.

The gun clattered noisily to the floor as Jess's grip on it failed. All eyes turned to the small girl in the over-large jacket. Becker stared at her, eyes wide, waiting for her reaction. He had never felt so nervous in his entire life. Well, there was that one time at Sandhurst when he was called to the General's office for some transgression in his first week of training. His career had almost been over before it had even started and he had been terrified. But this was nowhere near as scary - this was so much worse.

Noticing no-one else in the room, Jess tiptoed slowly forward, her eyes never leaving Becker. She stopped in front of him and for the first time he realised how tiny she was without her heels. The top of her head barely reached his collarbone. He gazed down at her, amazed at how his heart was pounding with her proximity and how much her reaction actually meant to him.

Jess stared up at him, eyes wide with wonder. She reached up a hand and tugged on his hair and his beard, as if she were a child trying to determine if Father Christmas was real. She smoothed a finger down the bridge of his nose, across his lips to his chin and Becker heard himself suck in a sharp breath at her touch. Her hand grazed gently up his cheek with her fingers coming to rest on the scar that ran through his left eyebrow. Jess gasped as she traced the scar with her finger, marvelling at this proof that it was him. Becker swallowed audibly, unable to drag his eyes from her face.

Her expression changed suddenly from wonder to fury. She drew her hand back quickly and slapped his cheek sharply, causing the others watching to wince in empathy with Becker. Becker didn't even flinch, standing stock still, knowing he would take whatever she could throw at him, knowing he deserved it and more. His cheek flared red under her assault and Jess's palm smarted painfully. Undeterred she slapped him again and this time Becker gritted his teeth and met her glare with his own.

"How could you?" she screamed at him, speaking for the first time. She drew her hand back again for another slap, but this time Becker was quicker, snapping his own hand around her wrist before she made contact with his face. Holding her hand in the air between them, he locked eyes with her and stared her down.

"How could you?" she repeated, yelling into his face, trying to free her arm. "I thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry Jess," he murmured and hearing his voice for the first time fuelled her anger. She launched herself bodily at him, wrenching her wrist from his hand and raining down blow after blow with her fists onto his chest and shoulders and arms.

"I cried for you!" she shouted furiously. "I grieved for you! I didn't eat, didn't sleep! I thought you were dead! You made me believe you were dead!"

Becker stood stoically taking blow after blow, wincing every now and then as she connected with the gunshot wound on his shoulder and the bruises on his chest. Her fury subsided, almost as suddenly as it had arrived and he wrapped his arms around her small body, enveloping her, pulling her hard against his torso and trapping her fists between them. She batted weakly at him, her anger and frustration giving way to tears.

"How could you?" she sniffled and batted at him again. "I hate you, I hate you," she mumbled into his chest.

Becker tightened his grip around her shaking body and lowered his head, burying his face in her hair, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, revelling in her warmth and scent.

"I'm so sorry, Jess," he murmured again. "I had no choice. I'm so sorry."

Her sobs diminished to whimpers but he was encouraged by the fact that she didn't pull away. He could have stood there, holding her, all day, but was rudely interrupted by their boss.

"Well, this is all very touching, Captain Becker," drawled Lester, having limped towards them. "But what the hell have you done to my ARC?"

Becker looked at his boss, sheepishly. "Sorry sir. Its probably a bit of a mess. And the ADD is definitely broken."

He felt Jess move against him at that statement, so he stroked her hair reassuringly.

Lester sighed. "And Kabir?"

"Dead, sir. Extremely dead."

"Excellent. That's very good to hear, Captain." Lester nodded appreciatively. He leaned forward, holding out his hand to Becker. The soldier removed his right hand from Jess's back briefly to grasp Lester's.

"It is nice to have you back Becker," said Lester sincerely, then coughed and dropped his hand. He half turned away, then suddenly twisted back again, wincing and favouring his leg.

"One more thing, Captain. Is the ARC secure?" he demanded.

Becker's head snapped to attention. "Oh, um," he said vaguely. Then his eyebrows flickered as he remembered something. "Hang on!"

He moved his hand down in between himself and Jess, pulling open his jacket and fishing in the inside pocket for something. His knuckles grazed down the side of her breast, against her bra, as he did so and Jess jumped slightly at the contact. He met her eyes as he realised and he mumbled a brief "Sorry."

Out of the pocket he retrieved the walkie-talkie he had stashed there earlier. It crackled into life as he pressed the button on the top and brought it up to his mouth.

"Lieutenant Carter. Are we secure? Repeat, is the ARC secure? Over." His strong voice was loud in the storage room and everyone waited, breaths held, for the response.

There was static and nothing else for what seemed like the longest time. Then Lt Carter's voice rasped over the radio.

"Affirmative Captain. The ARC is secure. Over."

Lester managed a rare smile as Matt whooped, Emily kissed his cheek joyfully and Abby and Connor high-fived and kissed each other softly on the mouth.

Becker kept a firm grip on Jess as he relayed his next order.

"Carter. Get you and your men to the Hub. There's a mess that requires cleaning up."

"Affirmative Captain. On our way," came the reply. There was a pause followed by, "Its good to have you back, Captain Becker."

Becker clicked the button on the walkie-talkie by way of acknowledgement, his throat too choked to say anything.

"Right, back to work then people, chop chop," said Lester suddenly. "We need to lift lockdown, make damage assessments and Becker I want you to make sure the perimeter of this building is secure."

Becker stared levelly at the bureaucrat, one eyebrow arched high up on his forehead.

"Lester, I've been shot at, held at gunpoint, blown up, been on the run from terrorists, parachuted from burning buildings, swam in the Thames, and crawled through miles of ventilation ducts to save the ARC from total destruction. If you think I'm not going to go home for 24 hours of complete rest you are utterly mistaken!"

Lester glared at the large, dishevelled, angry man covered in dirt and blood and sweat and sighed.

"Well, then, I think perhaps a trip to the Medical Bay may be in order," he paused and looked around the small group. "For all of us."

They all murmured in protest and Jess pulled out of Becker's embrace, placing a small but obvious distance between them.

He looked down at her, worriedly but she wiped her face on the arm of his jacket and managed a small smile.

"No offence, Becker, but you really smell!" she wrinkled her nose as Matt chuckled behind her.

Becker grinned. "Yes, yes I do," he agreed with a nod.

They made to troop out of the room when Lester caught Connor's arm. "A little help here?" he asked, chagrin clearly shown on his face and Connor grinned as he hooked Lester's arm over his shoulder, supporting his boss's weight as he tried to walk on his injured leg.

Becker swallowed up Jess's small hand with his much larger one and slowly he pulled her out of the room into the corridor, shielding her from the sight of the dead terrorists with his own body. Halfway down the corridor, he stopped suddenly and turned to face her.

"Wait," he exclaimed, more to himself than to her. "I forgot something!"

Ahead, Matt, Emily, Abby, Connor and Lester all turned around on hearing Becker's shout. What they witnessed had them all grinning from ear to ear before turning around and continuing their slow trek to Medical.

Becker gazed down at Jess, his eyes soft, his throat tight with anticipation. He felt like he couldn't breathe and his hand shook a little as he reached out to cup her cheek and move her head up until she was looking back at him. Quickly, before he lost his nerve, he dropped his head and placed the softest, sweetest, briefest kiss on her lips. It was so brief that Jess did not have time to respond before it was over. He pulled back, but only fractionally, just enough so that he could see her eyes. They were wide with surprise and shock and he searched them with his own, trying to gauge her reaction to his kiss. His lips twisted into a anxious half smile that seemed to ask: Was it ok? Did she mind? May he repeat it? Jess understood and returned his smile with a small one of her own. Becker's smile grew in reply, his dimple deepening, and he lowered his head again stopping just short of her lips. He swallowed audibly and his breath was raspy. It was Jess that closed the last few centimetres to press her mouth to his and this time the kiss lingered pleasurably until Jess broke away, frowning and rubbing her jaw.

Becker frowned, worried he had overstepped the mark and she was angry with him again. She reached up, smoothed his brow with her hand and smiled.

"Please, lose the beard," she told him, managing a small giggle.

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

He gazed down at her again and stroked her hair tenderly. It was at that moment that fatigue set in. The adrenaline had long since drained from his body and now exhaustion, fatigue and pain caught up with him. Feeling dizzy he was could not prevent himself from sagging forward onto Jess, his limbs were just unable to support his weight any longer and the darkness enveloped him.

Jess caught the Captain and held onto him as best she could.

"Help!" she called to the others for assistance. "A little help!"

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><p><strong>Well, I hope that was ok. There was a lot of build up to the Big Reveal and I'm rather worried you are all now disappointed!<strong>

**Anyway, I have enough inspiration now for maybe two or three more chapters - so I'd better get writing! :D**

**REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW - I've become quite dependent on them! :D**


	20. The Medical Bay

**A/N Well its been a long time coming and I thank you all for your patience. Especially andrewleepotts for her encouragement when I wanted to end the story at Chapter 19 purely because I couldn't work out how to write this chapter! And to lovingthis for writing Bounty Hunter which has kept my mind off my writer's block! :D **

**Anyway, I don't know how they got to the medical bay (maybe it was pixie dust!) but please just go with it! :D**

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><p>The medical staff had been left largely unscathed by Kabir, intent as he was on taking revenge on Becker's friends. They had been tied up and locked in one of the labs, until freed during Lt Carter's sweep of the building.<p>

Lester and Matt sat patiently on cots in the medical bay waiting for their X-ray results. As they waited they watched a medic cutting the clothes from Becker's prone body, lying limply on another cot, to assess his condition.

Lester winced as the medic removed Becker's t-shirt and the extent of his injuries became clear. There was not an inch of his torso that was unbruised, much of his arms were grazed and crusted with dried blood. There was a makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around the top of one arm which, when the medic removed it, revealed the scorched flesh from a close encounter with a terrorist bullet. The knife wound on his forearm glistened with blood that dripped onto the white sheets.

His legs were not much better. As his jeans were cut apart, red raw grazes competed for space with deep black bruises on his thighs and calves and shins. Matt suddenly thought he'd got away very lightly looking at his friend. He sucked in a breath and whispered "What the hell happened, mate?"

"Yes, that's what I'd like to know," agreed Lester, turning his attention to the medic who was cleaning and dressing the bullet seared flesh on Becker's shoulder. "What happened to him?" he demanded.

The medic looked up from his work, surprised.

"I have no idea, sir," he said honestly.

Lester pushed himself up until he was sitting on the edge of the cot. He glowered at the medic.

"Speculate!" he ordered. "You've examined his injuries. Surely someone of your extensive medical experience can surmise how he came by them?"

The last sentence was dripping with sarcasm and the medic looked suitably chastened. The poor man sighed and began cataloguing the wounds on Becker's battered body.

Starting at his shoulder, he told the other two men how he imagined the Captain could have come by so many injuries.

"This is a gunshot abrasion. The bullet didn't penetrate the skin but seared into his shoulder as it flew past. The extensive bruising all over his body suggests he's been badly beaten. Judging by the different layers of bruising, I'd say he has been beaten repeatedly and probably over several days. His X-rays will tell us if he has any fractures, which I wouldn't be surprised to find." The medic paused as Matt and Lester exchanged a glance.

Grimly the medic began to clean Becker's forearm before proceeding to stitch the deep gash. He didn't bother with anaesthetic, knowing that Becker was unconscious. And, indeed, the Captain made no indication that he could feel the needle pulling the thread through his skin.

"What about the grazes?" asked Matt, softly. He found the grazes covering two thirds of Becker's body the hardest to look at. The skin was angry and raw and encrusted with dried blood. It looked excruciatingly painful just to move, let alone crawl through half the ARC, rescue the personnel and kill the terrorists all at the same time.

The medic glanced at Matt's worried face.

"The extent of the grazing - the fact that it covers a large area of his body - suggests to me that he came into contact with something hard and at speed. The closest explanation I have is that he jumped from a vehicle, moving at probably forty miles an hour or above, and has rolled several times across the tarmac." The medic shrugged. "The road would have been like a cheese grater across his skin."

Lester winced and looked away, suddenly very interested in the wall beside him. Matt swallowed audibly. He had been prepared to be angry with the man who had caused so much heartache to the team and now returned to destabilize their recovery. But now he wondered how he could possibly be angry with a man who had endured so much and had ultimately been prepared to sacrifice his life to save everyone in the ARC.

The medic tugged the needle through Becker's skin one last time before covering the wound with gauze and a bandage to hold it all in place.

"This wound," he continued, "is a knife wound, sliced at an angle which will make it harder to heal. He will have permanent scarring from this and the bullet wound. If we're very lucky, the grazing will heal without him requiring any skin grafts."

Lester was beginning to wish he had never asked when a new voice entered the conversation.

"Will you all please stop discussing me as if I don't exist?"

Becker's eyes flickered open and he glared at the medic.

"What happened to patient-doctor confidentiality?" he demanded.

The medic smirked. "Technically, I was speculating so it doesn't apply," he remarked glibly.

Becker glowered. "Have you quite finished or do you have any more needles you'd like to stick in me repeatedly?" he asked harshly.

The medic stood up and made a tactical retreat, realising that Becker had felt every one of his thirty stitches. Matt moved slowly to the side of Becker's cot.

"How long have you been awake, mate?" he asked carefully.

"Long enough," replied Becker through gritted teeth. "And not even a local -" he stopped and flexed his arm as if that would calm the throbbing of his wound.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around the room.

"How are you two doing?" he asked concerned.

"Fine, considering," replied Matt. "Just waiting for X-rays."

"Apparently, they are going to tell us if we are injured or not," added Lester dryly.

Becker frowned. "And Jess? What about Jess?" He paused. "And Abby, Emily and Connor?" He looked momentarily panicked as he realised none of them were in the room.

Matt placed a reassuring hand on his friend's arm.

"They're ok. They're being examined in another bay."

Becker moved to swing himself off the cot, seemingly oblivious to his lack of clothing, and Matt gripped his shoulders to restrain him.

"Woah, mate. Let's get the X-rays first. You'll see Jess soon enough," he murmured and Becker sighed and complied, hefting himself back onto the cot.

Matt suspected the Captain didn't have the energy for anything else which was why he had given in so easily.

At that moment, the medic arrived back with the X-rays.

Becker's showed he had a head wound that was several days old but that had caused no brain swelling, no lasting damage. He also had one fractured rib but no more than severe bruising to the rest of his skeleton which would be left to heal on its own. He was advised to rest as much as he could for the next two weeks and to check in with the medical bay every three days for re-assessment. Becker rolled his eyes and mumbled something which sounded like "I do not need to be mollycoddled thank you very much!"

Matt had, as he had suspected, three cracked ribs. He was prescribed painkillers and advised to limit strenuous movement for three weeks whilst the bones repaired themselves. Matt seemed to take the news with more grace than Becker but everyone knew he'd be back out in the field as soon as the ARC was repaired.

Lester was told he had been very lucky.

"Ah, a new definition of lucky," he remarked and then shouted angrily at the medic, "I've been shot in the leg!"

The medic winced but continued. "The bullet passed straight through your thigh, sir, and avoided your femur and femoral artery which is incredibly lucky or you'd be dead by now. However, as it is, you do not require surgery but we will need to stitch you up and issue you with crutches to keep the weight off your leg while it heals." The medic held his breath, waiting for the angry sarcasm.

Lester opened his mouth to complain but as he did so he inadvertently moved his leg and an arrow of pain shot through his body so forcefully it made his head swim and his stomach turn over. He closed his mouth again and nodded mutely. The medic jumped up, unable to believe he'd got away with it, and began to assemble the items required for the extensive stitches that Lester required. But Lester wasn't finished. As soon as the pain subsided enough for him to speak again he remarked loudly:

"Whom does one have to fire to get any painkillers around here?"

After handing Lester his painkillers and completing the stitches the boss required, the medic rummaged in a locker for a moment and retrieved a hospital gown which he passed to Becker. Becker raised an eyebrow before donning the garment reluctantly.

"How is Miss Parker?" he asked, aware of both Matt and Lester's eyes on him.

The medic smiled at the enquiry. "She's doing ok Captain. Few cuts and bruises. Head injury and possible concussion. We're going to keep her here overnight for observation. Other than that she seems fine."

Becker leaned forward, closer to the medic.

"Any other injuries?" he pressed.

The medic shook his head,.

"He didn't do anything else to her?" Becker's voice rose.

The medic shook his head, again frowning, unable to grasp whatever it was Becker was driving at.

Becker grabbed the medic by his shoulders and shook him.

"Have you seen her state of undress?" he demanded. "Have you performed an examination of her?"

The medic smiled reassuringly, the penny finally dropping.

"Captain, that is really not necessary. Miss Parker has confirmed that the terrorist did not harm her in that way."

Becker shook the man forcefully. "She was unconscious for much of the time! You said yourself she has a head injury and possible concussion. It is entirely probable that he could have done anything to her and she wouldn't remember a thing!" Becker's tone became desperate.

The medic goldfished under the weight of Becker's glare.

"I demand you perform the appropriate examination!" declared Becker loudly.

"Becker," said Lester in a low voice. "Let the medic go."

Becker suddenly realised just how hard he was gripping the smaller medical man and let go abruptly. But he didn't let up on his demands.

"As Head of Security, I am ordering you to perform the examination as soon as possible," he stated, trying to keep his agitation under control.

The medic glanced at Lester who surreptitiously nodded his agreement. The medic sighed, knowing Miss Parker was not going to be pleased.

"Very well. What am I supposed to do if Miss Parker refuses?" he asked.

Becker's face became hard and cold. "You do it anyway," he insisted.

The medic raised his eyebrows and again looked to Lester, who nodded, hating to do it, but knowing Becker was right.

Matt looked appalled but kept his counsel. He knew he would have acted in the same way had Emily been involved.

Becker leaned back against the plumped up pillows on his cot and closed his eyes, knowing Jess was going to react very badly to the humiliation he was about to put her through. He bit his lip and wished he could drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness.

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><p><strong>AN So poor Jess is in for a tough time - and will Becker ever be forgiven for this? **

**REVIEWS PLEASE - YOU KNOW HOW I LOVE THEM! :D**


	21. The Exam

**A/N Ok this is a little shorter than I'd planned as I've split one chapter into two (as it was too long - I can't win it seems!). Anyway, hope its ok. Thanks to lovingthis for the "scarier than a dead man" line! :D**

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><p>Having rudely rejected the wheelchair offered to him by medics, Lester had struggled slowly, on grudgingly accepted crutches, to his office to check that his phone was still working and that his stash of whiskey had not been decimated.<p>

The team remained, for the moment, in the Medical Bay. Connor, who had had his cigarette burns properly dressed to prevent infection, had been declared physically fit despite all his complaints about the amount of pain he was in. He was now sitting in a corridor outside one of the examination rooms very interested in his own hands.

Abby and Emily, also declared physically fit, had gone to get everyone a coffee from the vending machine, having been asked to leave the examination room at the same time as Connor.

Becker stood leaning against the corridor wall. He was dressed now in a fresh black t-shirt and combat trousers, retrieved from the locker room by a terrified medic after the soldier had shouted at him just inches from his face: "If you think I'm just going to sit here in this draughty dress all day you will be the one requiring medical attention!"

Becker's hands were stuffed in his pockets and his eyes were closed. He was incredibly tense, muscles contracted and lips clamped into a tight, thin line.

Next to him, Matt hovered looking anxiously from the closed door to the examination room, to the black clad man and back again. He winced as the shouting began again.

From the room beyond them, a girls voice grew loud and angry, clearly audible to the men in the corridor.

"He did what? He said what?"

The voice rose in pitch and Becker scrunched his eyes and ground his teeth.

"How dare he! He has no right!"

There was a pause and a lower, male voice was muffled by the walls.

Jess continued to rant. "I don't care what he threatened you with! I won't let you do it!"

Another low mumble and then Jess's voice continued, clear as a bell.

"Touch me and you'll see I'm much more scary than a dead man!" she shouted furiously. "I don't care if the order came from Becker or the bloody Minister - I don't need it, I don't want it and I won't let you do it!"

Becker groaned softly and turned around until he was facing the wall, his head never losing contact with the cool, smooth surface. He braced his hands at shoulder height and banged his forehead repeatedly against the wall of the corridor, his eyes screwed up as tightly as they would go, the muscles in his jaw flexing edgily.

Matt slapped his friend on the back supportively and Connor looked up from his hands to see Abby and Emily approaching. He stood up to intercept them.

"Abs!" He reached out for his coffee. "You're a lifesaver!"

Abby and Emily stared at the three men, noting the tension and agitation and the steady thump of Becker's head as it came into contact with the wall. Abby's eyes narrowed as she handed out the coffees.

"What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

Connor and Matt exchanged glances and Becker stood up straight, face still to the wall.

"Connor?" Abby stared at her fiance, who avoided her eyes and sat back down in his chair, nursing his coffee.

Abby walked purposefully over to the soldier.

"Becker?" she demanded forcefully.

Becker turned and looked down at her, his face a mixture of anger and anguish.

Abby raised an eyebrow. "Becker, what have you done?" she asked softly.

Becker shook his head and closed his eyes again.

By this time, Emily had made her way to Matt's side. Taking his hand in hers, she made her enquiry.

"What's happening, Matt?"

Matt gazed at Emily so intently, so tenderly that she felt a blush creep up her neck. He pulled her into his arms and addressed Abby over Emily's shoulder.

"Jess is having another examination. Becker thought it necessary due to the length of time she had spent alone with the terrorists, her uncertain memories and her state of undress." He hoped Abby would understand without him having to explain further. He knew he couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud. Instead, "Lester and I concurred," he added, trying to assuage Becker's guilt.

Emily pulled away from Matt, incomprehension in her face. But Abby's face registered first surprise, then horror as she realised what Matt was alluding to, then finally anger.

"And what has Jess said about all this?" she hissed through her teeth.

Connor winced. "Jess isn't overly happy about it," he murmured.

Becker groaned in agony and banged the back of his head against the wall. If he carried on, there would be a dent in it by the end of the day.

Jess's voice rang out once more.

"Captain Becker can go to hell!" she spat, the venom in her tone was unmistakeable. Her voice grew louder. "I know he can hear me! Hide behind your orders, you coward, but I won't let you force me!"

Becker almost broke. The urge to burst into the room, stop the procedure and fling himself at her mercy was almost overwhelming.

Abby grabbed his shoulders and shook him forcefully.

"You left her in there alone? What the hell is wrong with you?"

She flung him back so hard that he hit his head against the wall again and grunted, his face flooding with shame.

Abby huffed, spun on her heels and quietly opened the door to the examination room.

"Jess," she called gently. "Its ok. Its Abby." She moved further into the room, slowly and carefully.

Jess was hunched on her knees at one end of her cot, as far away from the medic as she could get. Her face, though tear stained, was hard and angry, her eyes narrowed and focused on the medic across the room. Abby thought she looked like a young lioness getting ready to make her first kill.

Jess turned her head and glared at the blonde woman.

"So, are you in on it too?" she snapped.

"No, no," Abby shook her head. "I only just found out, I swear!"

Jess seemed slightly mollified by this. She inclined her head towards the door.

"They're out there, aren't they?" she asked quietly.

Abby nodded slowly.

"What are they waiting for? Juicy news about how Kabir defiled me?" she bellowed the last bit, just to make sure Becker heard her.

"No, Jess, it's not like that," Abby said gently, moving to the side of the bed. "Becker is going out of his mind with worry. He's banging his head against the wall - literally." Abby smiled reassuringly.

Jess's angry face softened. "Do you think it hurts?" she asked in a small voice.

"Absolutely," confirmed Abby, thinking about the red mark that had formed on his forehead.

"Good!" Jess stated flatly, but forcefully.

Abby wrapped her arms around the younger girl.

"He's just worried about you, Jess," she murmured.

"No, he just wants to torture me some more. Being dead wasn't enough for him!" Jess's words were muffled by Abby's shoulder but the pain in them was clear enough.

"That's not true, Jess. That's one terrified soldier out there. He feels responsible for bringing these terrorists to us. He just needs to know that he has nothing else to feel guilty about." Abby paused. "And you know he has a guilt complex as big as the Northern Hemisphere!"

Abby smiled as she felt Jess's giggle against her shoulder. Jess sat up, her face a little brighter.

"Abs, he's got a guilt complex big enough for the entire world!"

Abby nodded, still smiling. "So, lets not add to it, shall we?" she entreated gently.

Jess stiffened for a moment, her eyes wide. After a pause, she whispered "I'm scared, Abby."

Abby drew the trembling girl back into her embrace.

"I know, Jess, I really do." And something in her tone of voice made Jess realise that Abby really did understand exactly how she was feeling.

She looked up into Abby's face. "I'm afraid to find out," Jess's voice was tiny.

"I'll stay with you, if you like," murmured Abby, squeezing Jess's hand.

"Yes please," whispered Jess, squeezing back.

The medic, who had been hovering in the room for the entire conversation, moved forward. Abby glared at the man.

"Don't you think a female medic would be more appropriate?" she snapped, wondering how Becker could have overlooked that stipulation.

The medic fled the room, to be replaced moments later by a woman. She conducted the exam with the minimum of fuss and Abby held Jess's hand throughout.

Jess burst into tears as she received the negative result. Relief flooded through her and she clung to Abby who shhh-ed soothingly into her hair. Calmed, Jess looked at her friend gratefully.

"Thank you for being here," she told Abby.

Abby nodded and kissed the younger girl's cheek. "Get washed and dressed," she said gently. "I'll be right outside."

Jess nodded as Abby left her to compose herself. She knew Abby wouldn't be able to hold Becker from the room for long and she pursed her lips as her anger returned. Well, she'd be ready for him and he wouldn't know what hit him. Resolved to give him a piece of her mind, she hopped down off the cot to shower and change. If she was going to give hell on earth to Becker, she may as well look stunning doing it!

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><p><strong>So, Jess is a little pissed off - Becker beware! :D<strong>

**REVIEWS PLEASE - YOU KNOW I LOVE THEM! :D :D :D :D :D**


	22. The Same Page

**A/N Firstly, I have to thank Esmerelda Diana Parker for the first Connor/Becker/Matt paragraph. She put this in one of her reviews and I just couldn't resist putting it in the story! Secondly, apologies for excessive recaps, melodrama or cliches! :D**

**Disclaimer (because I haven't done one in ages!): I don't own Primeval (only my story and OCs). But, if I did, there would be a late, late, late night version (hehehehehehehe) :P**

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><p>Abby emerged from the examination room and fixed Becker with a death glare before muttering something about going to get another coffee. Emily joined her and the two disappeared down the corridor deep in quiet conversation.<p>

Connor sniggered and put on his best impression of an undertaker.

"Here lies Becker, dead for the second time, due to total emotional ineptitude."

Becker glared at Connor. "Shut up Temple!"

"Hah! Jess is way more scarier than you, mate! I bet she and Abby had the voodoo dolls out in there!"

Matt grinned as Becker squirmed. "Abby has voodoo dolls?" he asked incredulously.

Connor shook his head. "Not that I know of. But I bet they could have made one of Becker out of gauze and dressing tape. I bet they've spent the whole time sticking hypodermics in him!"

Connor grinned hugely whilst Becker glowered dangerously.

Matt moved forward and gripped Connor's shoulder.

"Come on, Connor," he said quietly. "Unless you want to wind up dead too." Matt glanced at Becker and inclined his head towards the door. "Think you've got some grovelling to do, mate."

Then he dragged Connor away.

Becker closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath and knocked once on the door before pushing it open. Jess was sat primly on the cot, her legs dangling over the edge. She was dressed in a dusky pink, short sleeved blouse, peppered with tiny deep purple flowers and delicate pink buttons. Her skirt was deepest purple and very short, made shorter still by virtue of her sitting down. Becker's gaze followed her legs all the way down to her ridiculously purple heels which looked like they were trying to be boots, right down to the baby pink laces. Her auburn hair tumbled like a waterfall gloriously over her shoulders and her carefully applied make-up accentuated the vibrancy of her brilliant blue eyes. She was stunning.

Becker drank in the sight of her, having not laid eyes on her properly for several months, his thirst seemingly insatiable. He didn't speak, just stood there, staring, his face unreadable.

"You could have asked, you know." Jess's tight voice broke the silence.

Becker blinked and re-focused. "What?"

Jess sighed. "Why didn't you just ask me?"

Becker gawped at her as if she had said something utterly incomprehensible.

"Asked you?" he spluttered.

"Yes, asked me," repeated Jess. "Do I not deserve that courtesy?"

Becker had no reply. He hung his head and mumbled "Sorry."

"That's it?" demanded Jess frostily. "You're sorry?"

Becker lifted his head and Jess saw the agony in his eyes. Her resolve to give him hell wavered; he looked like he'd been to hell and back already.

Their gazes held and she melted. She didn't think she'd ever seen him so defeated. Her voice softened.

"Just tell me why," she said quietly. "Why was that man here? Why did he hurt me? Why did you fake your death?" She shrugged, running out of questions. "Why?"

Becker sighed and ran his hand through his long, matted hair. "Lots of reasons, none of which are important right now."

"They are important!" Jess shouted, startling Becker. "We've all been through hell for you Becker and I think we have the right to know why!"

Becker's face hardened. "Its all stuff from my past - stuff I really don't want to talk about!" he shouted back, exasperated that she couldn't see how hard all of this was for him. He rubbed his chin, also knowing that this explanation was nowhere near good enough.

"Sit," said Jess calmly, indicating the chair next to the cot. "Sit and you can tell me, Becker. You can tell me everything. And not the abridged version you're going to give to Lester later."

She paused and met his eyes. He crumbled under her gaze - when had he ever been able to refuse her anything? He perched himself on the edge of the chair, his knees touching her shins, his body tense, his spine ramrod straight.

"Everything?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Everything," she confirmed gently.

And so he did. He told her about his tour in Afghanistan, about Kabir and his capture and about Shamsi and how she had died. He told her about Rider and finding out about his fake death only minutes before it happened. He told her how surreal it had been to watch his own funeral and how sorry he was to have upset everyone. He hadn't expected anyone would miss him that much. Jess reached out and stroked his face tenderly and he looked up at her.

"You have no idea," she whispered.

Frowning quizzically at her cryptic statement, he continued his tale.

He told her how he had infiltrated the terrorist cell, how he had built a bomb that had been used to blow up a Birmingham shopping centre. Jess jolted in surprise.

"That was you?" She had seen the police reports of the explosion as she trawled through them looking for creature incursions.

"I killed twenty five people and a good friend," Becker's voice cracked and he broke at the memory. He leant over, wrapped his arms around her hips and buried his face in her lap. Jess stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Its ok, you had no choice, its ok," she whispered, giving him absolution.

He didn't lift his head as he described the horror of his betrayal by Rider and how he had come by most of his injuries. Jess listened, shocked but silent, speaking only to murmur "Very James Bond," as he told of his parachute jump into the Thames. He raised his head, with half a smile, and told her his only thought then had been to get to the ARC, to get to her.

"It was a brilliant idea to initiate lockdown, Jess," he said, his pride in her evident in his voice. "The new protocols worked extremely well. I wouldn't have been so effective without them." He paused and ran a gentle finger down her cheek. "You saved the ARC, Jess," he whispered in admiration.

Jess flushed and lowered her eyes. Becker shifted from the chair to her side on the bed. He crooked his finger under her chin and lifted her head. Their eyes met briefly before he lowered his to her mouth and leaned forward. Before his lips could make contact with hers, she pulled backwards, away from him. Startled, he lifted his eyes back to hers and watched stupefied as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Becker, I can't," she whispered, close to tears.

"What?" he paused. "Is this because of the examination because I thought I explained about that -"

She shook her head vigorously. "Its not that."

He tried a different tack. "If its about the beard, I'll shave, I promise!" He smiled at her, flashing his dimple, hoping she'd smile back.

Jess didn't smile and Becker's face fell again.

"Then what?" he whispered, not really wanting to know the answer.

"I just can't do this. You were dead, Becker. I cried for you. I grieved for you. I was a complete mess. And now you're back. And you've had this immense thing that has happened to you - to all of us - and suddenly you want me." She shook her head as a tear trickled down her cheek. "I waited a long time for you and then you were gone and I'm not over that yet. I'm so confused."

She paused again and placed her palm gently against his cheek.

"I just can't. I'm sorry."

Agony was present in Becker's face for the entirety of her speech. His hazel eyes shimmered with liquid for the briefest of moments before the mask closed down over his features. His eyes went blank, his face became impassive, unreadable and he pulled his cheek from her hand, leaving her fingers hovering in midair. He stood up stiffly, almost to attention, looking directly ahead of him rather than at her.

"Yes, of course. I completely understand," he stated, monotone.

"Becker -" Jess began, wishing to soften the blow, but he cut her off.

"Well, I have lots of stuff to do - making sure the ARC is secure again and stuff -" he didn't finish and strode purposefully towards the door and his escape. He stopped with his hand on the door and turned to look at her.

"What did you say?" he asked suddenly but without expression.

She opened her mouth but he interrupted her again before she could speak. "At the graveside," he clarified. "Sat there all alone. What did you say?"

Memories of that day flashed through Jess's mind. How she'd knelt by the grave and told him she loved him and how she'd felt more at peace for doing so. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up at him. She swallowed, her throat dry and tight, and murmured:

"Nothing. I don't remember."

"Right," said Becker harshly, heavy sarcasm in his tone. "See you, Jessica."

He stepped out of the room and leant against the door as it closed behind him.

What the hell had just happened? She had rejected him! He'd finally realised how much he loved her and she no longer wanted him. He had ruined it all. Disappointment and rage took hold of him and he fairly effectively killed the two chairs sitting in the quietly in the corridor. Job done, he straightened, clasped his hands behind his back and, ever the soldier, marched out of Medical.

Jess, still sat on her cot, heard the chairs bounce off the walls immediately outside her room. She felt her heart snap in two as she allowed the tears to fall freely. What the hell had she done? She loved him so much and yet she had sent him away. They were always so out of step with each other. When she had shown him quite clearly how much she wanted him, he had not been ready. Now, here he was offering her everything she had ever wished for - and what did she do? She sent him away! Would they ever be on the same page at the same time?

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><p><strong>So, will they ever get it together? Or are they destined to forever be apart? (Ahhhhh that's so Mills and Boon - sorry!).<strong>

**More action next chapter - Becker has a nasty surprise coming! Hehehehehehehehehehe**

**PLEASE REVIEW! PRETTY PLEASE! ITS NEARLY OVER SO YOU DON'T HAVE LONG TO GET YOUR THOUGHTS OUT THERE! :D :D :D**


	23. The Clean Up

**A/N Firstly, apologies for the bittiness of this chapter - I had to get where I was going and tie up some of the loose ends along the way! Secondly, apologies to Emily Merchant - I really don't know what to do with you love! So very sorry! :(**

**Thirdly, thank you so much to everyone who is reading this story (even if you are not reviewing - I can hope you are enjoying it anyway!).**

**Lastly - are you all ready for a bit more drama? :D**

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><p>Matt and Connor found Emily and Abby in the Rec Area of the Ops Room. Abby put down her coffee and hugged Connor enthusiastically and Connor hugged back, equally hard, a happy but surprised look on his face, his brown eyes bright and his cheek deeply dimpled.<p>

"Hey, what was that for?" he asked softly, right against her ear.

She sighed, in no hurry to let go. "For being my hero. For being alive. For being you," she whispered. She pulled back slightly, but only so far as to press her hands to his face and kiss him hard on the mouth.

Connor responded immediately, entwining one hand in her hair. When they paused for air, he grinned.

"Its good to be alive, ain't it?"

Abby grinned back.

Emily stood, far more reserved in her approach to Matt. It was he who surprised her with his forcefulness. As she neared him, he gripped her upper arms tightly and pulled her against him. Cupping his elbows with her hands to steady herself, she was too surprised at first to respond to his fierce and demanding kiss. Gasping, she wrenched her mouth from his, staring at him with wide brown eyes. The sorrow evident in his depths of his light blue eyes made her reach up and press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. She remained there for a while, kissing and soothing him, reassuring him that all was well. Soon his grip on her arms relaxed and she was able to wrap them around his shaking body as he dropped his head onto her shoulder.

The last few hours had taken their toll on everyone.

But no-one missed Becker's march into Ops. They all noted the heavy footfall of his boots, the straightness of his back, the determined line of his head and the tension in every muscle of his back. They all recognised an agitated and unhappy Captain and exchanged glances of concern.

Abby pecked Connor on the cheek. "We're going to check on Jess," she told him and he nodded, also concerned about their friend and flatmate.

"I'm going to -" started Matt, softly, indicating Becker with his head.

Emily stroked his cheek. "Go easy on him. I shall take Lester a coffee." She smiled and flicked the switch on the coffee maker.

Matt jogged down the steps into Ops and stopped a few feet behind Becker. Both men watched silently as the black bag containing Kabir's body was wheeled out on a gurney towards the Medical Bay.

Becker recovered himself first. "Lieutenant Carter!" he shouted.

The Lieutenant came running over immediately.

"Captain Becker," he acknowledged and then nodded to Matt beyond the soldier.

Becker glanced over his shoulder, frowned and then turned back to his 2IC, maintaining his focus.

"Lt Carter, has the menagerie been cleared yet?" he barked.

Both Matt and Carter stiffened.

"No sir," admitted Carter, wincing.

Becker squared his jaw. "I want you and I to oversee it personally," he said harshly and he and Lt. Carter shared a look that only another soldier could comprehend.

Carter clicked his fingers and two other men joined them. Before they could leave, Matt placed a firm hand on Becker's arm.

"Can I help, mate?" he asked gently.

Becker shrugged off Matt's hand. "Thanks, but the security team can handle this." His tone was harsh and cold.

Matt took a step back as the four soldiers pushed past him, heading for the menagerie and their fallen comrades.

Matt made his way to Lester's office, just as Lester replaced the telephone handset with a frown.

"Any luck, James?" he enquired in his usual soft voice, glancing at Emily seated to his left.

Lester sighed. "The Minister seems as baffled as anyone about the whole affair. And MI6 are stalling." He paused. "Where's Becker? He can't still be in Medical, surely? This is not a bloody NHS hotel! Tell him I want a full de-brief immediately!"

The lack of response to his enquiries from both Whitehall and MI6 had riled the bureaucrat.

Matt remained unmoving. Lester stared at him in exasperation.

"I'm sorry, was I speaking Swahili? Get Becker in here NOW!" he demanded.

"He and Lt. Carter are clearing the menagerie," explained Matt, quietly and carefully.

Lester froze, realising what Matt had said and the difficult task facing the soldiers. He huffed as if put out and shuffled some papers on his desk. "Very well. But I want to see him immediately afterwards." He looked down at the paperwork in his hand. "Dismissed," he said absently.

Neither Matt nor Emily moved. Lester glanced up, surprised.

"Well, go on - shoo!" he commanded with an expressive gesture of his hands.

Matt and Emily dutifully left and closed the door behind them.

Becker and Carter returned from their grim task in absolute silence, both in a very bad mood. It had been a grisly and miserable operation, leaving both men irascible and emotionally strung out. Three good men had lost their lives in that dark, cavernous room and there hadn't even been enough left of them to send home to their mothers. And how did you explain that, anyway? Even an IED didn't cause that much damage to limbs and flesh. Becker rubbed his hand over his face before nodding to Carter in silent communication, thanking him for assisting in the difficult task of collecting the remains.

Both men walked into the Ops Room to find it alive with activity. Repairs had already begun on most of the ARC's downed systems. It almost appeared as if normality had set in. Matt was near the Hub, directing repair works, Emily by his side. Connor was hopping around behind the ADD like a demented frog, trying to repair the damage that Becker had inflicted with his serrated knife. In every corner of the room, soldiers assisted techs in their work, access panels hung open everywhere and wiring snaked across much of the floor.

"Becker! My office! Now!" Lester bellowed, aggravated.

Sighing, Becker turned and strode resignedly to the boss's office. As he entered Lester indicated he should shut the door and sit down and Becker complied. There was silence as the two men stared at each other. Lester spoke first. "Much as I admire your new look - although I think you've overdone it with the beard - I would like to know why I've been shot and held hostage by a bunch of turbaned Neanderthals!" he roared the last two words, making Becker flinch.

"Well, Captain? Care to explain? Or should I telephone Commander Rider?"

Becker sat up straight at the mention of Rider's name. "Commander Rider is a traitor, sir," he told Lester flatly. "And he's dead."

Lester raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should start at the beginning," he suggested, more gently this time.

For the second time that day, Becker found himself relaying the events of the past few months since his death. He omitted bits, just as Jess had known he would. He decided not to tell him about making the bomb that blew up the shopping centre, or being involved in the explosion at MI6 the night before. But the rest he related to a silent Lester in full. Lester, to his credit, managed to keep his expression unreadable, even though the tale relayed to him by Becker was fanciful, dramatic and incredulous.

"Well, Captain," he murmured when the younger man had finished. "You've had quite a week."

Becker managed a smile at the understatement of the year. "Yes sir," he agreed.

"Right, well, now I have some facts to relate to the Minister, maybe I'll be able to get some answers," Lester began and then paused. "But don't count on it!" He smiled thinly.

Becker moved to stand up but was stopped by Lester's hand waving him back down into the chair.

"Stay put, Captain. I may need you to answer some questions - I'm sure the Minister will have plenty," said Lester as he dialled. "Particularly about this Rider character and the involvement of MI6."

Becker sat and closed his eyes. He was missing something. He knew he was. He just couldn't quite grasp what it was.

"I'm on hold!" declared Lester staring at the handset in disgust. "Can you believe it! Its three o'clock in the morning and they've put me on hold! What on earth is the Minister going to be doing at this time in the morning? Playing poker with his mother?"

His mother! That was it! Becker had no idea what had happened to his mother! Rider had said he was going to send her on holiday - or something - unless?

Becker shot to his feet, his body language tense and urgent. "My mother! Lester have you spoken to my mother since the funeral?"

Lester stared at Becker, surprised by the man's outburst. Shaking his head he replied, "No, last I heard she went on holiday - but it is odd that I haven't heard from her since."

Becker banged his fist on Lester's desk earning himself a death glare from his boss.

"She didn't go on holiday!" he cried. "Rider said he was going to make it appear she had gone on holiday and then move her to an MI6 safe house so Kabir couldn't use her against me!"

"So, we need to speak to MI6 -" began Lester.

"Rider was a traitor!" shouted Becker, becoming more and more agitated. "He hasn't taken her anywhere to keep her safe! Something bad has happened to her!" Panic hit his features at speed and he almost climbed the walls to Lester's office in his need to do something.

"Calm down, Captain!" ordered Lester, crossly. "Getting your knickers in a twist won't help your mother, will it?"

Becker stared at his boss and almost pouted. "I wasn't panicking," he denied but stopped his erratic movements. "But this is my mother, Lester," he pleaded, almost in a whisper.

Lester moved awkwardly round his desk and gripped Becker's shoulder, pushing him forcefully back down into his chair.

"I know that, Captain, and we will find her," he promised solemnly.

There were voices on the end of the telephone receiver in Lester's hand and he put it to his ear with an angry "Finally!" Listening carefully, muttering only "uh huh" and "mmmmm" in response to the other person on the line, Lester finished his phone call with a sarcastic "Well, if that's the best you can do - I suppose we may as well go home!" He slammed the handset on his desk in frustration, reached for the whiskey and poured two glasses. Before he could enlighten Becker as to the outcome of the phone call to the Minister, there was a commotion in the corridor just outside the Ops Room. Both men stood up and Lester threw open his door. "What on earth is it now?"

"Armed Police - put the guns down!" a voice reverberated round the Ops Room.

"Put your weapons down and state your purpose!" yelled Lt Carter. "I repeat - put your weapons down!"

Weapons? Lester and Becker exchanged a glance and witnessed six uniformed and fully armed men marching into the Ops Room.

All activity in the Ops Room ceased as everyone stopped to watch open-mouthed.

"Lower your weapons everyone!" ordered Lester. "Haven't we had enough excitement round here for one day?" He turned his attention to the armed men. "Who in hell are you?" he demanded.

"Armed Police. Are you in charge here?" stated the first police officer, lowering his gun but only slightly. The men behind him kept their firearms trained on Carter and the security team.

Lester hesitated at the question, feeling the gunshot wound in his leg throb. The last time he'd been asked that question it had not ended so well. He sucked in a lungful of air and replied in the affirmative.

"What do you know of the whereabouts of a man called Becker?" demanded the officer.

Becker stepped slowly forward from beside Lester. "I'm Becker," he said softly. The armed police officers immediately trained their firearms on the Captain and in the same instant the security team raised their EMDs again.

"Stand down," Becker told the men, nodding at Carter, who repeated his order.

"Will you point those guns somewhere else?" demanded Lester. "And tell me what all this is about?"

Two of the armed officers lowered their weapons and, in response to a glance from their boss, moved quickly and grabbed Becker by the arms.

"Down on the floor, now!" they bellowed.

The security team began to get a little antsy - someone was going to lose control in a minute and all hell was going to break loose. Lester needed to get control of the situation.

Becker carefully lowered himself to the floor. The police officers pulled his arms behind his back and snapped handcuffs over his wrists. Then they hauled him unceremoniously back to his feet.

"I demand to know under whose authority you have entered this facility?" shouted Lester.

The officer in charge ignored the civil servant and glared at Becker.

"Hilary Becker, I am arresting you under Section 5 of the Terrorism Act 2006. As such I do not have to read you any rights and you can be held for up to 28 days without charge. Take him away!"

The officers holding Becker's arms dragged him towards the exit.

"What?" Lester was left speechless for a moment. "You can't do this! That man is my Head of Security, not a terrorist!"

"I can do this - and if you try to prevent me taking this man I will arrest you under the same Act for aiding and abetting a known terrorist!" the lead police officer told Lester almost smugly.

"Becker!" shouted Lester. "Don't tell them anything! One phone call and I'll have you released!"

"Lester! Forget about this! Find my mother!" Becker yelled, a little desperation in his voice. "Find my mother!"

As they reached the lift another voice called his name from the corridor to his right. His head turned automatically at the sound of her voice as it had done from the moment he had met her. Jess stared at him, horror and confusion spreading across her face. Their eyes met and held and she made to run towards him but he shook his head, arresting her motion. At that moment the lift doors opened and Becker was pushed into it by the armed men. Standing still surrounded by six armed police officers, the doors slid shut and Becker descended to an uncertain fate.

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><p><strong>AN So, how will our hero get out of this one? And what has happened to his mother? **

**PLEASE REVIEW - AND LET ME KNOW IF I SHOULD SAVE HIS MUM OR BUMP HER OFF! :D**


	24. The Hacking Geniuses

**A/N I am not a technical genius - I know next to nothing about computers! So, I have no idea if anything I have written in this chapter is even possible, let alone plausible! I just ask you to go with it please - its necessary to get the story where it needs to go! Also, apologies go to Emily Merchant for having to make the coffee again! :D**

**Thank you to all you wonderful readers out there for adding to your favourites / story alerts and for reviewing so diligently. Nearly 300 reviews - I am amazed! You are all truly brilliant - thank you! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval (just this story and my OCs - most of whom I've actually killed off now lol). But I am happy to invite Ben Mansfield over to my home to discuss ownership of his body! Hehehehehehehe :D**

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><p>Jess's heels clicked as she ran down the corridor to Lester's office, a million panicked questions burning through her skull. She was caught by Matt as she virtually skidded to a halt, feeling a bit giddy due to her head injury, as Lester's office door.<p>

Lester was stood stiffly in the doorway to his office glaring at the team who had all gathered there as Becker had been hauled away.

"If any of you know why my Head of Security has been arrested under the Terrorism Act, and have failed to inform me, you will all be fired immediately!" he declared harshly.

Jess gasped audibly, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Lester turned hard eyes on her and sighed loudly.

"Miss Parker?" he demanded.

Jess looked at her boss with wide, astonished eyes. "He didn't tell you?" she squeaked.

"Jess?" Lester's voice was stern.

Jess looked round at the assembled group. "You remember the explosion at the shopping centre in Birmingham a few months ago?" she asked and they all nodded, their faces creased with concern. Jess breathed in deeply and her words came out in a rush. "Becker built the bomb," she blurted out rapidly.

Lester threw his hands up in the air and let them fall to his sides again in exasperation. "Do you people just enjoy making my life difficult?" he demanded testily. "First the Minister, then MI6 and now I have to call Scotland Yard!" He glanced at his watch. "And its only 4am! What more can happen before breakfast?"

Connor opened his mouth to answer but Lester cut him off irritably. "The question was rhetorical, Connor!"

"What's the plan, James?" Matt's calm, soft voice cut through the tension and brought Lester's tirade to an end. The two men stared at each other.

"I will speak to the Metropolitan Police Commissioner at New Scotland Yard and see what I can do for Becker," Lester told the team leader. "Meantime, we have to find Mrs Becker."

"Mrs Becker?" asked Matt, needing clarification.

"Commander Rider at MI6 was a traitor," Lester informed the group who gasped collectively, all except Jess, who knew this already. "We believe he is holding Becker's mother somewhere against her will and we need to find her."

Now it was Jess's turn to gasp, horrified. Lester's eyes flicked from Jess to Connor and back again.

"We need the ADD up and running as soon as possible," he told the technical geniuses. "The answers lie somewhere in MI6 - I need you to hack into their computer system and find them."

Jess almost protested, knowing what her boss was asking her to do was illegal. But she clamped her mouth tightly shut and nodded solemnly, same as Connor.

"Then lets get to work!" ordered Matt and the team moved collectively back down into the Ops Room.

Lester retreated into his office, grumbling about freelance staff and rogue security personnel. He popped two painkillers with a quick gulp of water before pressing the speed dial on his telephone that was programmed with Tim Godwin's direct line number, the Acting Metropolitan Police Commissioner. He settled into his chair for what he knew was going to be a very long conversation.

An hour later, Jess sank to her knees with a groan of frustration and buried her face in her hands. Connor hunkered down next to her, amidst the wiring and wreckage of the ADD.

"You ok?" he murmured softly.

Jess looked up at him and nodded. "Just a little light-headed and giddy."

Connor looked concerned. "We need to get you back to Medical," he told her softly.

"No, I'm fine," Jess insisted. "Please don't make a fuss, Connor." Jess shook her head. She pulled at some of the wiring in her hands. "But this is impossible! What the hell did he do to my ADD?" she whispered.

Connor grimaced. "Um - put a large knife through it and shorted out all the wiring to the keyboard and screens," he admitted and Jess winced. Connor continued, "It will take hours to rip out all the affected wiring and circuit boards and repair the connections."

"We don't have hours, Connor," moaned Jess, unhappily.

"I know, but we have to try," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, as far as I can tell, the core memory is still intact - we just can't access it without the keyboard and screens."

Jess stared into space and anyone else may have thought she was just being rude and ignoring them. But Connor could practically see the cogs whirring around in her brain. Suddenly, she looked at him, her eyes wide and bright, as if someone had flicked on a light bulb inside her head.

"Connor," she gabbled. "The ADD is just like a really big laptop, right?"

"Hey! It's a little bit more technical than that!" cried Connor, somewhat affronted that she had likened his first really important invention to something as common and simple as a mere laptop.

"Go with me on this," Jess smiled and patted his arm. "If the ADD core is still intact and its just the keyboard and screens we need -" she paused as Connor caught up and grinned.

Connor bounced up off the floor excitedly. "Matt! Abby! We need as many laptops as you can find!"

Ensconced in his office, Lester had learned four things regarding Becker's case. Firstly, that he had been taken to Paddington Green Police Station for interrogation with regard to his terrorist activities. Secondly, that Rider had left some pretty damning evidence against Becker that had been passed onto Scotland Yard by MI6. It was all fabricated, of that Lester was in no doubt, but Scotland Yard was not about to dismiss it without a retraction from MI6. Thirdly, Becker had been implicated as a terrorist by a man named Asuf Khan, in return for immunity from prosecution. His evidence pointed to Becker as the leader of the terrorist cell. And lastly, that Khan had supplied the security services with the equipment used to make the Birmingham bomb and that Becker's fingerprints were all over it.

Lester sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. Becker had really gone and done it this time. Even if he could persuade the Police Commissioner, the Home Secretary and MI6 that Becker had been framed by Rider, Kabir and Khan, the fact remained that his fingerprints were indeed on the bomb making equipment and Becker himself had confessed, to Jess at least, his involvement in the Birmingham event. And Lester wasn't sure there was anyway out of that one. Still, he had to try.

Between them, Matt and Abby had rounded up six laptops and brought them to the techies at the ADD. Emily followed with strong, black coffee for everyone.

"Emily, you're an angel!" exclaimed Connor, taking a huge gulp of the hot liquid. He almost dribbled it all back into his mug and he danced around moaning "Hot, hot!"

"Focus, Connor!" admonished Abby, but with an affectionate smile across her face.

"Ok," he said, his attention now back to the task at hand. "I need those three laptops taken apart. We need the wiring and the circuit boards. Jess and I are going to use these three here - they are going to become the new ADD."

Matt, Abby and Emily sat and carefully pulled apart a laptop each, whilst Jess and Connor set about stripping the burnt out wiring from the ADD. A complex procedure was begun, whereby wiring was replaced, chips inserted and laptops re-wired to try and connect the ADD's many integrated systems to three external laptops. Connor and Jess required the assistance of the whole team, mostly to hold wires where they were needed before they could be soldered into place. Matt had been tasked with connecting the final wires to the laptop screens but was having difficulty holding the large number of wires in place at the same time. He cursed as the wires moved out of place for the third time. A delicate hand appeared over his shoulder and pressed the loose wires back into the correct position. Matt moved his head to the side to see Emily smiling at him before she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"May I be of some assistance?" she whispered into his ear.

Matt leant his cheek against her head. "Thank you," he whispered back as he soldered the wiring with a soft sigh of relief.

He stood up, placing an arm around Emily's waist and squeezing gently.

"That's it, Connor. Now what?" he asked.

Connor and Jess looked up from their laptops with excited eyes.

"Now we switch it on!" declared Connor, moving towards the newly repaired ADD, which still looked a bit of a disaster area, with odd wiring looping from it and the smell of solder still hanging in the air.

"And hope it works!" added Jess, holding up two crossed fingers.

Connor pulled a face and flicked the switch. The laptops remained blank. "Damn it!" he shouted in frustration and was just about to pull out the wiring when the screens on all three laptops flickered.

"Wait!" cried Jess. "Its working! Its actually working!"

The three laptops screens glowed with the ADD displays and Jess laughed with glee.

"I always knew it would!" declared Connor, responding to Abby's high five.

The team all sat down on the floor, the two techies in the middle, their fingers flying over the laptop keyboards, trying to find a way in to MI6. They hit firewall after firewall after firewall. It seemed impossible to get through.

Jess felt tears of frustration tumble down her cheeks. "We're never going to break through this, Connor. It's the security services - they're just cleverer than we are!" she cried.

"No!" declared Connor, determined not to be beaten. "No-one is cleverer than us, Jess!" He sat in thought for a moment before his eyes widened. "The PDA!"

He leapt up and gave it legs out of the Ops Room to the storage room that had been their holding cell so many hours before. There on the floor, just where he'd left it, was the PDA that Becker had given him to control the ARC systems. He brought it back with him to Jess and sat fiddling with it for a long time, long enough for Jess to get antsy and repeatedly ask him if he'd found anything yet. Suddenly he let out a cry of triumph.

"Yes!" He looked up at the expectant gazes of his friends and grinned. "Becker had email communication with someone inside MI6. We can piggyback onto that email address and enter the MI6 mainframe. No problem!"

Jess was grinning now too. "Absolutely brilliant!"

It took a short while, the two techies working together on the laptops, their fingers a blur as they typed and re-typed instructions and code and circumvented security protocols, grinning like loons the entire time. Matt, Abby and Emily watched, with breath held, the anticipation almost unbearable.

"I don't believe it!" cried Jess after around half an hour.

"What?" Connor leaned over to inspect the display on her screen.

"Penny - the woman who emailed Becker," Jess explained. "She was Commander Rider's PA. It seems she found out about his treacherous activities and I don't think she agreed with them. She has emailed an encoded file to the MI6 mainframe. Hang on. There are communiqués from Kabir to Rider, messages proving Becker has been set-up and -" Jess paused as she tapped a few more keys. "Yes! Mrs Becker's safe house location!"

She wrote the address down with a pen and paper, hurriedly retrieved for her by Emily, who then rushed it to Lester's office.

Lieutenant Carter, who had been assisting with other repairs nearby, happened to overhear Jess's triumphant shout. He sent two of his best men to assemble a team in the armoury and by the time Lester appeared at the top of the steps shouting his name he was already jogging up them advising the boss that his team were ready and awaiting his instructions. He paused momentarily and locked eyes with Lester.

"Conventional firearms would be useful, sir," he stated, boldly.

"Already authorised, Lieutenant," confirmed Lester with a nod.

Matt hurried over to the two men. "I'd like to join your team, Carter," he said, his tone not inviting any argument. Carter started in surprise and Lester raised an eyebrow.

"I was under the impression you had three cracked ribs, Anderson. I hardly think this mission is a suitable place to discover your limitations," he told the team leader, forcefully.

"I'm fine sir and I insist on going!" declared Matt, staring at Carter, daring him to disallow it. Carter just nodded, knowing Matt to be as stubborn as Becker. He also knew that Matt would never allow himself to become a liability to a mission - he would take himself out of the field first, before putting lives at risk.

Emily appeared behind Matt and touched his arm.

"Do you have to go?" she entreated softly.

"I can't just sit here and wait," he told her, his eyes almost pleading with her not to make a fuss.

"Very well," she said, gently. "Just, please, be careful."

"Always," he told her solemnly and quickly kissed her cheek.

"Fine!" Lester snapped. "But since this is most definitely against Health and Safety Regulations I will need you to sign a disclaimer!"

But Matt and Carter were already running down the corridor towards the lift.

"I'll sign it when I get back!" Matt shouted over his shoulder, with a big grin.

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><p><strong>Go Penny! Has she saved both Becker and his mum?<br>**

**OK, so Matt and Carter are off to rescue Mrs Becker! Will they make it in time? Will Matt's injury make him a liability? Will Lester be able to save Becker from life in prison? So many questions! :D**

**Reviews please! :D**


	25. The Rescue

**A/N Thank you to Prawn Crackers for likening my attempts to mend the ADD to MacGyver (I love him!). I wish I'd thought of that - then I could have had Connor fixing the ADD with a paperclip and a plastic cup! Hehehehehehehe :D**

**Thanks to all of you still adding this story to your alerts and favourites! And to everyone who has reviewed - I look forward to them so much! They make my day! :D**

**This chapter is dedicated entirely to Lieutenant Carter - I felt he needed a chapter all of his own...**

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><p>Lieutenant Carter was twenty-four years old. Tall and of stocky build with a mousey-brown crew-cut and green eyes, he looked more like a stereotypical American Marine than an ARC soldier. He joined the ARC two years previously as a 2nd Lieutenant. He may have been youthful, but he had seen his fair share of action, including a disastrous tour in Afghanistan where half his squad had lost their lives due to poor intelligence. He had been only twenty-one at the time and pretty traumatised. His superiors had decided on a domestic assignment for him as he recovered, rather than dismissal from the Army altogether. Carter had resented this at the time. He thought he had been side-lined for a failed mission - a failure that was not his fault. He'd had no idea that Captain Becker had actually requested him personally when he had been assembling his security team as the ARC was re-opened with Prospero funding.<p>

Carter had come to the ARC angry, resentful and opinionated. He had a problem with authority and following the orders of anyone he couldn't respect. When Carter had first met Captain Becker, he had found him to be arrogant and rude and unapproachable. He found it difficult to respect him, particularly as he was also having trouble believing any of this dinosaur nonsense. And the EMDs were a joke. His first few weeks at the ARC were uneventful. There wasn't even an anomaly alert, let alone an incursion. The most excitement they had had was when the Dracorex escaped from the menagerie and Carter had gained his first insight into the complicated relationship between the Captain and the young, pretty Field Co-Ordinator. At the time, it had just made him resent Becker even more.

Then had come his first creature incursion and everything changed. His first time out, they had been met by three raptors. Carter had been stunned into inaction and had failed to discharge his EMD as one raptor bore down on two of the security team. Becker had come flying past him out of nowhere and slammed into the raptor's side, full bore, knocking the dinosaur off its feet mid-stride. The Captain had then rolled out of the way and fired his EMD to stun the creature before it even had time to scramble back to its feet. Carter had been genuinely astonished and his respect and admiration for the Captain began to germinate from this one heroic incident. Captain Becker had, willingly and without a second thought, placed his own life in danger to save the team. That made him a great soldier in Carter's book. His respect and admiration grew on their return to the ARC when they discovered Captain Becker had actually dislocated his shoulder as a result of his remarkable action and the man hadn't said a word about it as he had supervised the return of the raptor through the anomaly, although the pain must have been excruciating. Carter found himself wanting to be just like the Captain. Little did he know that Becker had chosen him for the team for just that reason - Becker had seen himself in the young 2nd Lieutenant.

Carter had been promoted to Lieutenant and 2IC within eight months after the incumbent, Lieutenant Phillips, had been trampled by a stampeding Stegosaurus, resulting in the loss of his leg. The promotion was swift and quite a surprise to Carter as he and Becker had argued and disagreed on many issues during his time at the ARC. But maybe that's what Captain Becker was looking for in a 2IC - someone who didn't automatically agree with him, someone who questioned orders and intel, and someone who came up with solutions and fresh approaches to old obstacles.

During the last year, the two men had learned to rely on each other and had, Carter liked to think, become friends. He was often saddened by the distance Becker tried to place between himself and the rest of the security team. Or, more accurately, between himself and the rest of the world. But, gradually, he had seen Miss Parker wiggle her way in, under the armour the Captain wore, and Carter thought Becker had lightened up somewhat because of it. This lightening of the Captain's demeanour had pleased Carter and he surreptitiously encouraged it, taking on extra responsibility for the men so that Becker could spend more time in the Ops Room and at the ADD.

Now, the one man he respected and admired more than any other had been hauled away on terrorist charges - charges which Carter thought were ludicrous. Anyone who had spent longer than five minutes in the company of the straight-laced, uptight, by-the-book Captain would know that any implication of wrong-doing was ridiculous.

Still, there was nothing he could do to help the Captain in that regard. He could, however, rescue the man's mother from the terrorists, hopefully unharmed. Becker deserved that much at least.

He and Matt took a security detail of twelve men - not including themselves - making a total of fourteen. They piled into three ARC SUVs, flatbeds packed full of guns and live rounds, and headed out to the location of the safe house, blinking like a beacon on the GPS. Carter drove the first truck and glanced over at Matt in the passenger seat.

"You want to take over this one?" he asked, warily.

Matt smiled and shook his head.

"No, mate," he assured the young soldier. "This is your mission, you're in charge. I'm just here as back-up." He winced slightly as the seatbelt dug into his ribs.

Carter nodded, appreciating the team leader's statement. It was all up to him now.

The journey was to take several hours and Carter worried about his strategy the whole way there. They had no way of knowing how many men were there, or whether those men knew that both Kabir and Rider were dead. They didn't even know if the men they faced were Kabir's terrorists or MI6 agents. Carter hoped for the former - terrorists were more likely to make mistakes. MI6 would be a much tougher task.

They arrived in Haltwhistle, Northumberland some six hours later. According to the GPS, the house was situated in the centre of a wooded area and Carter decided to secrete the SUVs at the edge of the woodland and approach the house on foot in the hope of attracting less attention.

He sent two teams of three men out on reconnaissance, whilst the remainder prepped the weapons. Corporal Hicks reported back and Carter had to revise his plan.

"The woods don't extend right up to the house," the soldier told his commanding officer. "All approaches to the house itself are by way of a flat, landscaped garden. We saw movement inside and identified at least four individuals. We couldn't tell if they are terrorists or security services."

Carter dismissed the man and turned to Matt.

"Its too risky to approach in daylight. They'd pick us off before we got halfway across the lawn. We're going to have to wait until dusk to retain the element of surprise." He paused. "That is, unless they already know we're coming."

Matt concurred with the soldier's assessment and they moved the team as close to the house as they dared to watch and wait.

As night fell, fourteen dark figures fanned out across the lawn. Using the carefully manicured bushes and sculptures as cover, the edged closer towards the house. It was a large, period house with a least four separate entrances. Carter was betting that Mrs Becker would be held somewhere on the first floor, probably a central room, giving her captors maximum advantage. It would be far more difficult to maintain the element of surprise the further into the house they had to incur.

Reluctantly, he split the team to cover all four entrances. They all switched on their radio mikes and Carter hunkered down below the kitchen window, spying in with his small, extendable mirror. The kitchen was always a good place to start. There were two men in the kitchen, both of Afghani descent, and Carter hoped this meant they were dealing with Kabir's men. He gave the order to go, and the authority to shoot to kill if necessary. Until then, the men were to take out each terrorist quickly and quietly if they could. Checking each entrance was clear, the teams snuck in. Two teams remained on the ground floor, whilst Carter and Matt lead the other two upstairs.

Sergeant Collier and Corporal Hicks lead the downstairs teams. Talking to each other through a series of hand signals they cleared the kitchen, the drawing room and the sitting room, quietly and efficiently breaking necks and thrusting knives into flesh in short, sharp strokes. Six men in all met their ends this way.

Carter and Matt reached the first floor landing and split up. Matt's team turned right at the top of the stairs, straight into three terrorists. His two flanking men took out two of the terrorists as quickly and effectively as Sgt. Collier and Corporal Hicks below. Matt was not so lucky. Taking a direct kick to the chest he stumbled backwards, his ribs screaming, and he was temporarily unable to defend himself. A punch in the face sent him tumbling down the stairs. Coming to rest on his back on the small corner landing where the stairs changed direction, Matt pulled his gun and fired three silenced shots at the terrorist. The man's body spun on its toes briefly before spiralling over the banister to the ground floor below.

Carter appeared on the landing and stared down at Matt, concern creasing his face.

"Sorry!" Matt mouthed.

"You ok?" asked Carter quietly from the top of the stairs.

Matt nodded, cradling his ribs with his hand. "But I'm out." He grinned at Carter's frown. "I got your back from here, mate! Now go! If you heard that commotion, so did the bad guys!"

Carter nodded and, with a last glance at Matt whose expression changed from amused to pained, continued his sweep. Matt was down, but alive. Privates Huxley and Malone had been injured but were still functioning. The anticipated gunfight had yet to materialise but there were two rooms left and plenty of places for terrorists to hide. The full team - minus Matt - met up for the final two rooms.

It was quiet, too quiet for Carter's liking, and this suggested that the terrorists were indeed alerted to their presence. Deciding that stealth was now defunct, Carter kicked open the wooden door to the master bedroom suite, catching a terrorist off-guard behind it and knocking him unconscious. He was then dispatched by Corporal Hicks. Two more terrorists ran at them, firing. The soldiers fired back, silencers coughing the bullets out, despite no longer being necessary. With two more down and only a flesh wound to Sgt. Collier's shoulder, Carter pressed forward. He left three men to guard this room, knowing his subject lay through the doors beyond.

Taking Corporal Hicks and three others with him, he kicked open the heavy double doors and ran, gun raised, into the room. Oddly, it was empty, bar one high-backed armchair in which was seated a genteel, elderly lady, her face showing signs of mild concern but nothing more. Warily, Carter sent his men to investigate the room, knowing there must be men hiding somewhere; this had been far too easy.

He himself moved forward towards the old lady. He'd only met Mrs Becker once, at her son's funeral, and he had no idea if she would remember him. Hunkering down before her, he carefully placed his large calloused hand over her delicate, frail fingers.

"Mrs Becker, its Lieutenant Carter," he told her softly. "You're going to be ok now."

And that's when all hell broke loose.

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><p><strong>AN Will they survive? Will Mrs Becker make it out alive? REVIEWS PLEASE! I LOVE THEM! :D**

**And we will find out what happens to our favourite soldier boy next chapter - will Lester get him released before he's shipped off to Guantanamo Bay? Hehehehehehe :D**

**(Oh, and before you mention it - yes, Corporal Hicks is out of Aliens but I love him too, okay?) :D  
><strong>


	26. The Brilliant Bureaucrat

**A/N Thanks for all your reviews. You will have to wait a little longer to discover what has happened to Lt. Carter and Mrs Becker. For now - GO LESTER! :D**

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><p>Lester was on the phone, receiver in one hand, glass of whisky in the other and desperately wishing he hadn't given up smoking all those years ago. The Minister had put him directly through to the Home Secretary but the call wasn't going as well as he had hoped. The Home Secretary was adamant that it was MI6's call. They had alleged Becker's guilt, they had supplied the evidence to the police, the bomb making equipment and fingerprints, and this evidence was irrefutable. Unless he could get MI6 to retract their accusation, his hands were tied and there was nothing he, or anyone else for that matter, could do for Captain Becker.<p>

Lester replaced the telephone handset, took a large swig of the fiery amber liquid in his glass, comforted by the warm trail it left down his throat, and then rubbed a hand over his tired face. He had been on the phone for the last five hours and was still no nearer a solution for Becker. At least the nerds had found Becker's mother. That was a consolation at least. As long as she was still alive, of course, and that there were no mishaps during her retrieval. There had been radio silence from Lt. Carter and his team for a very long time and it made Lester nervous. He looked out of his glass walls down into the Ops Room. Jess and Connor were still fiddling with the laptop ADD but he had no idea what they were trying to accomplish. Perhaps he ought to find out. Before he could rise from his chair, his telephone rang and this time it was Acting Metropolitan Police Commissioner Tim Godwin returning his call. Unfortunately, despite Lester threatening to call in several favours owed to him by the Acting Commissioner, the response from the police was much the same as the Home Secretary. As MI6 was involved, they couldn't interfere. He couldn't get the charges dropped without the sanction of MI6. Lester slammed the phone down again and finished off his whisky in one gulp, before pouring himself another. He closed his eyes and leant back in his chair. _God, I'm going to be an alcoholic before this is over! _he thought miserably.

Paddington Green Police Station - maximum security terrorist holding facility and Becker's home for possibly the next 28 days if he was lucky. As a terror suspect he had no rights - no phone call, no solicitor, no right to remain silent. Anything he said would be used against him and anything he didn't say would be taken as evidence of his guilt. He had been stripped of his clothing and made to dress in a paper, forensic jumpsuit. He was barefoot and cold.

He had been left sitting alone, hands still cuffed behind his back, in the small metal-walled interrogation room. He sat upright in the chair, his head bowed forward, his beard almost touching his chest. His eyes were closed, but not in sleep. His mind was racing, even as he struggled to keep it blank. He knew he should think of nothing, that would assist him in resisting his interrogators' questioning, but his thoughts had other ideas. He knew why he was here, his guilt had festered in the pit of his stomach from the moment he had killed those twenty five innocent people and was now beginning to eat its way through his insides. He knew Lester had advised him to say nothing, and he would say nothing, even though he didn't really believe Lester would be able to get him out of this. He wasn't even sure that was what he wanted, such was his need to be punished. But one thought over-rode everything else as he sat there alone. Instead of contemplating his predicament, one voice, one smile, one word flashed across his brain over and over. Jess, Jess, Jess.

He scrunched up his eyes. Why was he thinking about Jess? She didn't want him. She'd turned him down. And who could blame her? He was a murderer, a killer. Why was he surprised that she had pushed him away? But he remembered how she had held him as he had told her about the bombing, how she had stroked his hair comfortingly, how she had told him it was all ok. Why had she done that? So gently, so lovingly. His senses betrayed him further as he remembered their kiss. Her eyes, wide and surprised, the pupils dilated, as he had drawn closer to her, the softness of her mouth beneath his, the taste of her lips - a taste that was still there on his tongue, delicious and intoxicating. She had returned his kiss, he was sure of it. And for that one brief moment he had been acutely happy.

The door to the interrogation room banged open and he gratefully accepted the interruption of his torture, even though he knew a different kind of torture would have to be endured. Opening his eyes and lifting his head he could see the two men who had entered were police officers. He sighed. They would ask him the same questions they had asked him an hour ago and he would reply with the same answer: Becker, Captain, 59620060 - name, rank and service number. He repeated it, like a litany, to every question he was asked. As before, the ranking police officer became frustrated and slammed his fist on the metal table between them. Becker lowered his head again, knowing the officers would exit the room and leave him sitting there for another hour or two. Unfortunately for Becker, the slamming of the officer's fist brought two other men into the room. These men were not police officers. Looking up at them, Becker immediately identified them as MI6. These guys couldn't have been more obvious if they'd worn a large badge with the words "I'm MI6" flashing repeatedly in bright neon pink. For the first time since he'd been arrested, Becker felt nervous.

The police officers left. "You have thirty minutes," one of the officers told the MI6 operatives.

"More time than we need," stated one suited man, smugly.

Becker grimaced, bracing himself for the onslaught. And they didn't disappoint. Instead of a verbal interrogation, the MI6 agents kicked Becker's chair backwards, causing it to tip and crash to the floor, banging Becker's head hard against the metal surface. He grunted and closed his eyes. He was in no position to defend himself; his hands were still cuffed behind his back. That made no difference to the nameless, faceless MI6 agents. They punched and kicked the downed soldier, laughing as he winced when their blows made contact with the earlier injuries he had sustained at the hands of Kabir. They stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Becker's face streamed with blood from abrasions to his eyes, nose and mouth. Every inch of his body felt trampled and he wished he was able to pass out at will. Instead he was forced to endure this new agony; no blissful oblivion for him. One of the MI6 agents hunkered down over him and, gripping Becker's bruised chin between his finger and thumb, pulled the soldier's head round to face him.

"Call yourself British Army? You have betrayed your Queen, your country and your regiment, soldier! Shame on you!" He spat in Becker's face.

Becker wrenched his head away, coughing, spraying blood across the metal floor.

The second MI6 agent swatted the first on the shoulder with his hand. "Time to go," he said and the two men turned to leave.

The police officers re-entered the room and became alarmed by the bloodied mess that was Captain Becker.

"What the hell have you done?" one demanded.

"We haven't done anything," said one MI6 agent. The police officer frowned and the second MI6 agent clarified.

"You have never seen us, we were never here," he told the police officer with a grin and the two suited men sauntered out of the interrogation room.

The custody sergeant knelt down next to Becker. "Better get the police surgeon," he muttered with a frown.

Becker closed his eyes as the room began to sway and let darkness consume his consciousness.

Lester needed a break. He'd had enough of being told there was nothing he could do for his Head of Security. There was always something, leverage of some kind, that was how politics worked. He just had to find it. He wandered down the steps into the Ops Room, still a hive of repair activity, and loomed over the two techies still sitting on the floor surrounded by laptops.

"You two had better not be internet shopping," he grumbled, crossly. "Unless you're buying me a new ear." He rubbed at the ear that had been fairly stuck to the telephone for the last several hours as if trying to bring some life back into it.

"No luck with the Minister?" Connor asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Lester declined to comment and instead gestured to the laptops flashing away at his feet.

"What on earth are you two doing?" he demanded in a tone that indicated he wasn't really interested but felt compelled to ask.

Jess looked up at him, her face bright with discovery.

"Rider's PA, Penny, is an amazing woman! She's left a whole load of encrypted information on the MI6 mainframe. We're trying to download it now. But the laptops were struggling for memory space so we've had to switch to an external hard drive," she babbled excitedly.

Lester shook his head, his face bored and impassive. What the hell did any of that mean, anyway?

Suddenly, Connor became animated.

"Hurry Jess - they've found us!" he exclaimed, tapping one of the laptop screens with his finger.

"What?" cried Jess. "I can't hurry - the laptop is working at maximum capacity as it is!"

"They're deleting the code, line by line! We're going to lose it!" shouted Connor. His screen flickered and went blank. "No! Damn it!" Connor thumped his hand on the laptop keyboard.

Jess grimaced as her laptop ceased downloading. "Lets just hope we've got enough," she muttered.

This sparked Lester's interest. "Enough for what?" he enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Leverage," she said, grinning at Lester.

Some time later Lester's voice could be heard reverberating round the Ops Room.

"Believe me, Sir John Sawers will want to hear what I have to say," he stated loudly into the speaker phone on his desk, the door to his office left wide open in his haste to make this call.

The recipient's voice was not so audible but the listeners in the Ops Room could recognise that the MI6 receptionist was stalling.

"Yes, well, you tell the Head of MI6 that if he doesn't make time to take my call, he will hear what I have to say on the 6 o'clock News!" roared Lester, intimidating the phone and making it tremble.

Lester drummed his fingers on his desk as the phone went silent. There was an odd crackle and a very definite click, as if the phone call was being recorded and traced (and most likely it was) and then the very top man at MI6 cleared his throat and spoke in a deep, rather irritated voice.

"This is Sir John Sawers. You are James Lester?" he demanded, authority resounding in his tone. This was a man not used to having his orders disobeyed or jumped up little civil servants threatening him.

"Ah, Sir John, how nice to speak with you at last," Lester's tone was brittle. "I have a little matter that I wish to discuss with you."

"Regarding the terrorist you've been harbouring?" Sawers asked, determined to keep the upper hand.

Lester laughed, mirthlessly. "My Head of Security is no terrorist, I assure you. However, I do have rather compelling evidence that your Commander Rider was a traitor."

There was silence on the other end of the line and Lester smiled. "Yes, I thought that might get your attention."

"That's a very big accusation Mr Lester," said Sawers carefully. Lester could almost see him clicking his fingers at his minions, ordering them to discover the truth of his statement.

"Isn't it, though? But then, so is accusing Captain Becker of being a terrorist. He was working on the orders of Commander Rider, you see. At the time, he had no idea then that it was actually Rider who was working for the terrorist, Kabir. In fact, once he discovered the treachery, it was Becker that saw to it that neither Rider nor Kabir could harm anyone else ever again. He single-handedly killed them both and in so doing has landed himself in the hot water he is in now." He paused, trying to gauge Sir John's reaction. Again there was silence. So Lester continued. "So, you see, this could all be highly embarrassing for MI6 if it accidentally leaked out, for example."

"Just what exactly are you implying, Mr Lester?" asked Sir John tersely.

"Oh, I'm not implying, sir," said Lester with a grim smile. "I am telling you that if you don't arrange for all charges and accusations against Captain Becker to be dropped within, say, the next two hours, my next call will be to the BBC with an exclusive on the traitor at MI6. And the subsequent cover up being supervised by your good self. Very embarrassing, I'd say."

There was a long pause before Sir John spoke again. When he did, his tone was icy.

"And just where did you find this rather compelling evidence you say you have?" he demanded.

Lester smirked, even though Sir John could not see him. "The MI6 mainframe. We hacked into your systems, oh, about an hour ago and retrieved an awful lot of very interesting information before we were discovered and locked out. Perhaps you'd like to double check that with your technical people? Again, rather embarrassing for the security services don't you think? Although, I do have two very brilliant people on my staff, if I do say so myself." Lester winked at Connor and Jess, loitering outside his door and they grinned back, absurdly pleased with such a rare compliment from Lester.

"That's an extremely serious offence you have ordered your staff to commit, Mr Lester," stated Sir John, coldly, stalling for time as his minions checked the computer logs for evidence of illegal entry. They found it, of course, and Lester's timings were spot on. Sir John pursed his lips angrily.

"Oh, I didn't tell them to do it. They did it anyway. Freelancers! What can you do?" Lester pretended to sound exasperated. "But, of course, you will overlook their little indiscretion as well, won't you Sir John?"

"I don't like being threatened, Mr Lester. You would be well advised to keep all of this to yourself and let the law handle Captain Becker."

"Fine, fine," agreed Lester. "Jess!" he shouted loudly across his office. "Get me the number for the BBC, would you?"

"Alright, Mr Lester," said Sir John hastily. "You have my attention. Email your evidence to my personal account. I will look it over and if I think it is compelling enough, I will see what I can do for your man. If not, you had better be watching your back in future. Because the security services will be."

"Very well, Sir John. An email will be sent to you shortly. But we will obviously be keeping the original evidence close to hand so don't attempt to alter or, indeed, disappear any of it."

Sir John snorted as if that kind of behaviour was ludicrous.

"And I suggest you watch your back too, Sir. One last word of advice - never threaten the man who owns a Mammoth." Lester told the Head of MI6 glibly before abruptly ending the phone call.

Connor, Jess, Abby and Emily grinned and applauded spontaneously.

"Don't celebrate yet," Lester told them sternly. "We've just jumped out of the proverbial frying pan and into a very large fire."

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><p><strong>So, has Lester saved the day? Will MI6 crumble under the pressure? REVIEWS PLEASE - I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM! :D<strong>


	27. The Helpless

**A/N Well, for me this is a very short chapter, but I hope it works! Also, you will see a break in this chapter - it has been pointed out to me by lovingthis that perhaps I should use them when I change characters / locations. Please let me know if it makes it easier to read! :D**

**Thanks again to every one for their reviews - they mean so much to me!**

**Anyway, now its time to find out what happened to Lt. Carter and Mrs Becker - did they make it out alive? :D**

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><p>Carter heard one of his men scream before he heard the gunfire. Instinctively he went on the defensive. He grabbed Mrs Becker, frail though she was, and threw her onto the floor behind him as a bullet embedded itself in the back of her chair. Placing himself between the elderly lady and the sound of gunfire, his eyes searched out the threat.<p>

Three things suddenly happened all in a rush. He heard his name, shouted as an alert, saw a turbaned man emerge from the large built in wardrobe to the left of his position, and then registered a blur leap across in front of him and tumble to the floor. Carter raised his weapon and, with one squeeze of the trigger, dropped the terrorist. His eyes focused on the form sprawled on the floor about two feet in front of him.

"Hicks!" he hissed. "Hicks! Crap! Are you ok?"

Hicks moaned softly and rolled over onto his back giving Carter a good look at his bloodied uniform. Unwilling to leave Mrs Becker, Carter hissed the Corporal's name again. Hicks groaned and pressed his hand to his shoulder where the bullet, intended for Carter, had punched through.

"I'm not dead, sir," he told the Lieutenant through clenched teeth.

Carter smiled in admiration for the Corporal.

"Still functioning?" he asked, quietly.

"Yes sir." Hicks pulled himself up to a sitting position and trained his weapon towards the ensuite bathroom from where they could still hear sporadic gunfire.

"Stay here with Mrs Becker," ordered Carter. "You guard her with your life."

Hicks nodded before Carter shuffled carefully forward, his weapon trained and ready.

As he reached the far side of the room he noted he was two men down, both dead, and the others were pinned down by the sporadic small arms fire every time the bathroom door opened. Carter snuck up close to Sergeant Collier.

"Cover me," he whispered. "And when I open that door, let loose with everything you've got."

He took a length of rope from his webbing and secured it quietly around the bathroom door handle. As the door opened again, allowing the remaining terrorists to unleash another round of indiscriminate gunfire, Carter pulled hard on the rope, opening the door fully and exposing the men inside the bathroom. Sergeant Collier and Privates Potts, Miller and Bradley emptied their magazines into the bathroom. Finally, the returning fire fell silent and Carter signalled to the men to lower their weapons. Cautiously, his gun raised, he edged into the bathroom. It was large, with a free standing bath and a large shower unit, both now containing a body. Another body was sprawled across the vanity unit and a fourth lay in a pool of blood on the marble tiled floor. All four terrorists were confirmed dead, the bathroom now re-decorated in their blood. Carter nudged one of them with his toe, just to make sure, and pursed his lips at the grisly scene. Heaving a loud sigh of relief, Carter ordered Collier to attend to their fallen colleagues before hurrying back to Hicks and Mrs Becker.

The elderly lady was still lying on the floor where Carter had left her, with Hicks sitting directly in front of her, shielding her with his body. Hicks lowered his weapon as he recognised Carter who knelt down next to him to assess his injury. It was bleeding heavily but was not life threatening. After dressing and strapping the Corporal's shoulder, Carter turned his attention to Mrs Becker. He gently touched her arm and spoke softly and soothingly to her.

"Mrs Becker. Its Carter. Everything is ok now. We're going to get you out of here."

He helped the old lady to sit and held her hand reassuringly. He was surprised that her hand did not shake and, to her credit, she showed no evidence of tears, although her face was taut with fear. She turned her head towards Carter and squeezed his hand firmly.

"Thank you, young man," she told him, warmly, not a single tremor in her voice. "My son always spoke highly of you."

Carter grinned, absurdly pleased. "Um, Mrs Becker? About your son -"

Carter rounded up his men, and with the help of Corporal Hicks and Sergeant Collier, arranged a detail to transport the dead and injured, including Matt, back to the SUVs. They would leave the removal of the terrorists' bodies to the local police. Slowly and carefully, Carter escorted Mrs Becker down the stairs and outside into the misty dawn, light now beginning to pervade the far reaches of the landscaped gardens to the woodland beyond. Birds sang, the sky lightened from black to grey to blue and Mrs Becker smiled as she felt the morning air brush her face, knowing her son to be alive. Gripping Lieutenant Carter's arm she allowed him to lead her across the garden, the morning dew soaking through her soft, flat shoes. She showed no outward sign of trauma from her imprisonment. Her face was a tranquil mask and Carter was impressed by her stoicism. He could see her son was very much like his mother.

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><p>Becker woke up on the floor of his police cell. His head was pounding, his ribs ached agonisingly and he could taste blood in his mouth. His hands were no longer cuffed and he attempted to push himself up but halfway his arms gave out and he crumbled back onto the hard concrete floor with a muffled grunt. Groaning, he managed to lift his head slightly and found himself staring at a pair of ridiculously high and girly purple heels. His gaze travelled upwards, caressing the smooth, shapely legs to her terribly short, green, snakeskin effect skirt. He sighed softly as his eyes found her waist, so teeny tiny that his hands could fit almost all the way around. He so wanted to feel her waist under his hands again. His gaze traversed further upwards to the swell of her breasts, so alluring beneath her lime green, scoop necked blouse, all soft and floaty. He lingered for a moment on her breasts, trying to imagine what it would feel like to touch them, kiss them, maybe bury his face in their softness. He thought about trailing kisses up her neck to her warm, red mouth. He remembered their kiss, so soft and sensuous, and immersed himself in his fantasy. Her lips were smiling her brilliant, one hundred kilowatt smile, the one she saved especially for him. Her eyes were as blue and bright as the deep ocean on a sunny day, gazing at him adoringly. Her face was luminous and he had to blink hard to adjust his eyes.<p>

When he opened them again, she was gone.

The Captain slowly lowered his head, feeling the cool, hard concrete against his cheek. Closing his eyes, he allowed one heavy tear to traverse his face and pool on the floor next to his chin. For the first time since his ordeal began, Becker felt lost and utterly helpless.

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><p><strong>AN Oh poor, dear Becker. I just want to cuddle him right now! But I'll leave that to Jess maybe next chapter, maybe not - hehehehehehehe :D**

**Hope you liked the names of the Privates! I had fun with that! :D Again, I'm sorry its so short but I hope it was still enjoyable!**

**Reviews please! :D :D :D :D :D You know I can't survive without them! :D**


	28. The Release

**A/N Firstly, can I just point out that Tim Godwin (Acting Metropolitan Police Commissioner) and Sir John Sawers (Head of MI6) are actual real people holding or have held these actual posts and this story in no way seeks to demean them in any way. Their words and actions are solely out of my imagination and I do not want to discredit or dishonour these very real people in any way! Just needed to get that off my chest lol :D  
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**Are things looking up for Becker at last? Will Lester put MI6 back in their place? With thanks to Esmerelda Diana Parker for the line "taken on a future predator and won, twice" - I just had to put it in here! :D **

**Thanks again to everyone for your reviews - over 350 now. I am totally shocked, gobsmacked and loving it! :D Thank you thank you thank you! :D  
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><p>Connor, Jess, Abby and Emily had been ordered by Lester to stop "sitting around trying to look pretty" whilst they all waited anxiously for a reply from MI6.<p>

"We wouldn't want to deprive Lester of his job, now would we?" Connor had whispered conspiratorially to Abby, eliciting a giggle from his fiancee.

Since then they had been rummaging around in storage rooms and technical laboratories to find the wiring and tools required to fix the ADD. Lester had determined this to be the priority, bearing in mind they were blind, deaf and mute without it.

Lester paced his office, waiting for his telephone to ring. It was more excruciating than either waiting for the kettle to boil or watching paint dry. Frankly he was getting more agitated by each passing second and had nowhere else to vent his frustration other than the Ops Room. Everyone was feeling the sting of Lester's acerbic tongue with greater frequency than usual.

Connor lay on his back under the ADD, sorting out the mess of wiring and chips that hung down from the ADD core. Jess sat in her chair, her hand delved down deep inside the heart of her beloved computer, trying to assist Connor with his repairs. Abby and Emily were "technical assistants", standing by with whatever equipment and hardware the two computer nerds required. They watched the screens closely, desperately hoping for signs of life.

"Ow!" cried Connor as a large spark, crackling with electricity, burned the tips of his fingers. The screens flickered and Abby cried out to him:

"Whatever you did, Connor, do it again!"

"But it hurt!" Connor whinged and Abby kicked his leg lightly with her foot.

Connor sighed, and reconnected the two wires, creating the spark again. This time he hung on, despite the burning, and the ADD screens lit up with line after line of code scrolling up the screen.

"Its re-booting!" screamed Jess excitedly, close to Emily's ear, making her jump back awkwardly. "Brilliant, Connor!"

Connor let his head fall to the Ops Room floor with a bump. "Ow," he said again as he sucked on his poor, burned fingers.

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><p>The telephone on Lester's desk began to ring conspicuously loudly and all attention now turned in that direction. Lester's pacing stopped and he paused, letting the telephone ring shrilly, echoing round his office, on and on and on. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to answer it but, knowing that he must whatever the outcome, he leant over his desk and lifted the receiver.<p>

"James Lester," he announced to the caller, sounding far more optimistic than he felt. He was acutely aware of the audience that had gathered on the steps outside his office.

"Ah, James," came the conciliatory tones of Sir John Sawers and Lester got the distinct impression he was being softened up. Whether that was for bad news or MI6 eating humble pie he wasn't sure yet.

"Sir John," Lester returned, somewhat less warmly. "Have you had chance to review and double check our evidence yet?" he added tersely.

There was a pause, Sir John undoubtedly realising that his attempts to placate Lester had failed and he needed to get straight down to business. "Yes, James, we have and I must say I was surprised by what I read."

Lester raised an eyebrow, but remained calm. "Surprised? How so?"

"Penny Harper was just a PA. She would not have had access to half of the information you claim to have retrieved from our mainframe. We also have evidence that it was Penny who was the traitor and therefore any evidence supplied by her must be treated as false."

Lester barked out a short, angry laugh.

"Penny Harper was ex-military. Decorated for bravery with an exemplary record, well respected by her superiors and without even a misdemeanour in her five years of service!" Lester almost shouted down the telephone. He was grateful to Connor for ferreting that useful piece of information from the computer files at the MOD. He had suspected MI6 might try to discredit Penny somehow, especially as all their hopes hinged on her evidence.

Sir John paused again. "That information is classified, James," he stated, his voice colder than before. "Just how did you come by it?"

"Freelancers," Lester shrugged. "They just can't be trusted near computer terminals."

"James, you really are flying a little too close to the wind. I could crucify you with this. Hacking into MI6, hacking into the MOD. What kind of dangerous game are you playing here?" Sir John was frosty.

Lester wasn't bothered by his threats. When you've taken on a future predator and won, twice, no other threat even came close anymore.

"No, Sir John, MI6 is the one toeing close to the line. One call from me to the BBC or ITV, or any other news network for that matter, with an exclusive on double agents and corruption at MI6 and your resignation will be on the Foreign Secretary's desk quicker than you can say Velociraptor." Lester grinned sardonically, knowing that Sir John, despite his clearance, really had no idea what actually went on at the ARC.

Sir John coughed and sighed loudly. "You are really prepared to do that, James?" he asked in quieter voice and Lester knew he had won.

"Absolutely, my PA has the BBC on speed dial as we speak," he lied smoothly.

"All this for one man, James? What on earth is he to you?" Sir John really did sound genuinely curious, as if years in the security service had jaded him so much that one man's life was not worth this much effort.

This time it was Lester's turn to sigh loudly. "He is my Head of Security. He is a very valued member of my team, another excellent soldier with an exemplary record and he has been brutally wronged by the security services. He does not deserve the treatment meted out to him by MI6, or the terrorists he stopped single-handedly suffering great injury to himself, nor, I suspect, the police officers at Paddington Green. In short, I want my man back, Sir John."

The pause on the other end of the line was the longest yet and Lester was disheartened that his impassioned plea, so unlike him, had damaged whatever headway he had made.

"Very well, James. We will make demonstrations to the police to the effect that new evidence has emerged pointing to Captain Becker's innocence."

Lester shook his head. "Not good enough, Sir John. I want a full retraction from MI6, exonerating Captain Becker from any wrongdoing." He paused and drew in a deep breath. "And I want an apology."

Sir John laughed shortly, but Lester held his counsel and his breath.

Sir John exhaled angrily. "Don't push your luck, Lester," he warned. But Lester was very much in the mood for pushing his luck.

"Jess!" he called. "Get the BBC on the line, would you. I think we may need to send that email to them pronto!"

"Steady, James, steady!" Sir John's voice took on a panicked tone; the one and only time Lester had the privilege to hear how much he had rattled the boss of MI6. "Very well, James. MI6 will issue a full retraction of any charges and accusations against Captain Becker. We will ensure his release within the next three hours -"

Lester began to interrupt but Sir John cut him off. "That's the best I can do, Lester. I can make it longer if you wish."

"No, no, three hours is fine," confirmed Lester, knowing he had pushed as far as he could. "And the apology?"

"We require all the evidence you have to be forwarded directly to MI6 by the secure courier we will send to you within the next hour -"

"No," interjected Lester. "You can have the evidence once I know Captain Becker is in one of our cars on his way back to the ARC." The insistence in his tone brooked no argument from Sir John.

"Very well. We will send our courier to you in three hours time, on the dot. I expect all hard copy evidence and computer memory chips to be given over and any other evidence you may have destroyed."

"Very well," Lester agreed. "And the apology?" he repeated.

"MI6 apologises for any inconvenience this unfortunate incident has caused you and your operation, Lester," Sir John muttered, reluctantly.

Lester laughed shortly. "Not to me! To Captain Becker! I want a full, written retraction and apology to be available to Captain Becker upon his release from custody!" he demanded loudly.

"Very well, Lester. Good day." Sir John's reply was terse and blunt and the line was immediately disconnected.

Lester allowed himself a discreet "Yes!", mimicking the arm gesture he had seen Connor use so many times before. Then he turned to the team, hovering just outside his office door.

"Well, don't just stand there. Go and get the damn jailbird!"

Abby and Connor high-fived everyone within hand-slapping reach, Jess squealed in delight and Emily grinned hugely at Lester.

"Very well done," she congratulated him, sincerely.

Lester shrugged, as if he had known it to be a done deal from the beginning. As if he had never doubted his negotiation skills for one minute. He sat down and poured himself yet another whisky, looking with disappointment at the now empty bottle. And for one moment he felt a pang of regret that the most compelling evidence, that Becker's fingerprints had been planted on the bomb-making equipment by Rider, had been in fact fabricated by Connor and inserted into Penny's evidence just before it was emailed to MI6. He knew that if this deceit was ever discovered, he would be in worse trouble than the man he was trying to save. He shrugged and threw down a gulp of his favourite fiery drink. He could live with it, given enough whisky.

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><p>Becker was sitting in his cell, his head leant back against the wall behind him, his eyes closed, when the Custody Sergeant and two constables came to drag him to his feet. The Captain was disorientated, his eyes bloodshot, the dark circles directly under them looking like bruises. He stood uncertainly, swaying slightly with the sudden change of position and tried to focus on the smaller police officer standing in the doorway to his cell.<p>

He placed his hands behind him, expecting to be cuffed immediately, but the clutch of the cold metal around his wrists never came. He frowned, confused, and met the Custody Sergeant's eyes.

"MI6 has retracted all evidence against you," the man told Becker, a little displeased. "You are being released without charge. Not even on bail. You are a free man."

One of the constables huffed in disbelief and the other shook his head. Becker knew that since the bombings of London's transport system in 2007, the police had little empathy for anyone accused, rightly or wrongly, of acts of terrorism.

Then his brain caught up. He was being released? What? How? He was incredulous. After all the evidence they had thrown at him over the past twelve hours, he was being released without charge and not even on bail? He was exonerated? What the hell? He gaped at the Custody Sergeant but remained rooted to the spot in his cell. The Custody Sergeant stood slightly to the side of the doorway and indicated the corridor with his arm.

"After you," he told Becker, sarcastically. "Unless you'd rather stay here, of course."

Becker found his feet and walked unsteadily out of the cell, down the corridor and into the Custody Suite where his clothing and belongings had found their way, ready for his departure. He changed back into his clothes and sat waiting while the paperwork was completed, paperwork that would ultimately require his freedom.

He put his head in his hands, willing his brain to work. Why would MI6 issue a retraction to all accusations and charges against him? Surely they could have made one stick as an excuse to keep him here indefinitely? His heart lifted and then sank in one fluid motion. Lester. It had to have been Lester. What had his boss done? What improbable hold could Lester have over MI6 to make this possible? And what would it cost the civil servant in the long run?

Becker didn't have time to contemplate these questions. He was hauled from his seat and pushed into the outer foyer of Paddington Green Police Station, release papers in his hand. Waiting for him in the foyer, and flinging her arms around his neck the moment he emerged through the wide double doors, was Abby Maitland. She kissed his cheek and stroked his beard as he stared at her.

"What happened?" he muttered, unable to muster his voice above a whisper.

Abby waved a piece of paper at him, which he took and read in incredulous disbelief. It was a full retraction and unreserved apology from Sir John Sawers, Head of MI6.

He shook his head in denial. This was surreal. This could not be possible. But he was holding it in his hand and Abby was here and he had been released from custody. He almost felt sick with relief and Abby's hand on his arm steadied him.

"Come on," she told him gently. "Lets go home."

She lead him outside to the waiting ARC SUV. She ushered him into the back and he stopped suddenly and baulked, realising there was someone else sitting primly on the backseat of the car. Jess Parker. What the hell was she doing there?

Abby shoved the Captain as hard as she could and, grunting, he sat down reluctantly in his seat. He felt Jess's eyes on him as he fastened his seatbelt and Abby clambered into the driver's seat. He said nothing as the car moved away and Jess spoke softly, her voice making his entire body quiver.

"Hello Becker."

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><p><strong>AN So, Becker is free at last! And naughty James and Connor - falsifying evidence tut tut! :D And why on earth is Jess waiting for Becker in the car? Will he get his cuddle at long last? :D**

**REVIEWS PLEASE - YOU ALL KNOW HOW MUCH I ADORE THEM! CAN WE GET TO 400 BEFORE THE END OF THE STORY? WOULDN'T THAT BE AMAZING? :D :D :D :D :D**


	29. The Mother and Son

**A/N WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS FILLED WITH EXCESSIVE AMOUNTS OF JECKER FLUFF. VIEWING IS NOT ADVISED FOR THOSE WITH LESTER'S DISPOSITION :P**

**This chapter is dedicated to Jnevadub232 for saying that Becker must look like a homeless person xxx  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval, or Ben Mansfield, but if I did he wouldn't be out of the handcuffs anytime soon hehehehehehehhe :D**

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><p>"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed harshly, desperately wanting her, but still hurting after her rejection of his affection earlier.<p>

Steeling herself in the face of his anger, Jess ploughed forward, determined to have her answer.

"If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?" she asked in a high voice.

Tired, beaten and in more pain than he had ever been in his life, Becker knew his defences were down and if she had asked him to parade naked through the ARC he most likely would. He sighed loudly.

"Probably," he told her flatly, looking straight ahead, refusing to meet her eyes.

There was a long pause as Jess shored up her own defences and gathered her courage to ask her question. In true Jess style, it all came out in a rush.

"Why now? I mean, I've made no secret of how I feel about you for the last two years and you've always ignored me, very graciously, but ignored me nonetheless. So what's changed your mind? Why did you want me when you came back?" It sounded stupid, voiced out loud like that. But she had to know that his desire for her was not just a reaction to the intense experience he had just suffered and that once everything was back to normal he wouldn't just discard her again. She didn't think her heart could take being crushed like that.

Becker sighed again, quietly and resignedly, and allowed himself one brief look at her face before turning his attention once more to the back of the headrest in front of him. Jess watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard and when he spoke his voice was low and thick with emotion. His statement was peppered with pauses as he struggled to find the right words to express himself.

"Being dead makes you reassess a few things. I went to my funeral and I realised the injustice and disservice I was doing to myself, and to you and the others, by holding you all at arms length for so long. I realised that I couldn't put my life on hold until tomorrow anymore. Because if tomorrow never comes, you would never know how glad I was that you never gave up on me. I made a promise to myself that if I ever got back to the ARC, the first thing I would do would be to tell you how it had been you, just you, that brought me out of the darkness and made me…feel again."

He stopped abruptly and Jess thought this was the longest speech she had ever heard him make. Becker's gaze met Abby's in the rear view mirror and the raw look in his eyes made Abby immediately switch her attention to the windscreen again, concentrating very hard on the road ahead.

There was silence in the backseat as Jess digested his uncertain yet somehow eloquent announcement of how much she meant to him. He'd barely looked at her the entire time and was now staring moodily out of the side window to his left. Feeling very small in light of his declaration, Jess reached out one shaking hand and laid it gently over his larger one that was resting open on his thigh. Becker didn't acknowledge the gesture but he didn't pull away either. Encouraged, Jess curled her fingers around his hand until the tips gently caressed his palm. Still he didn't move and Jess swallowed audibly. Wishing very much that he would turn his warm hazel eyes on her, she squeezed his hand, trying to show him in her own small way that she wanted him too. He remained staring out of the window, but she thought that he had squeezed her hand in return. She desperately hoped he understood the meaning of the gesture.

Becker felt her hand atop his and froze. This was too much if she was just going to reject him again. He felt her fingertips touch his palm and little volts of electricity zigzagged their way through his hand, up his arm and fried his brain. She squeezed and he had no option but to squeeze back. He desperately hoped that the meaning of this gesture was that she wanted him too.

They remained like that for the rest of the journey back to the ARC. Abby glanced into the rear view mirror and smiled as she saw them holding hands. Things were going to work out, she decided. She pulled into the ARC car park and as the SUV screeched to a halt, Becker ripped his hand away from Jess's and tumbled out of the car as fast as he was able. Jess looked down at her empty hand and felt the tears begin to form behind her eyes. He hadn't understood. He was still angry with her. And for all his words, he really didn't want her anymore. She sat there for a few minutes, stunned and miserable.

The door on her right opened and she automatically turned her head to see who was there. A large, calloused hand was proffered, ready to assist her exit from the car. She looked up in surprise to see Becker standing there, his head cocked to one side, an odd look on his face. Sniffing back her unshed tears, she accepted his hand and allowed him to pull her from the SUV. Standing slightly to the side so he could shut the door after her, she expected him to move back and give her room to walk past him towards the ARC entrance. But he didn't. He remained stationary and very close. She looked up at him, unable to look anywhere else, and was struck by how his body enveloped her entire line of sight. Everything she could see was all Becker. And he had the strangest, most inscrutable expression on his face as he gazed down at her, his hazel eyes reflecting the overhead lighting of the car park. He still didn't speak, he just stood there, gazing at her until she began to feel uncomfortable and claustrophobic - but in a weirdly good way. Jess felt the urge to fill the silence with something and rushed headlong into what she had wanted to tell him when she had seen him hauled away by the armed police officers all those hours before.

"I told you I loved you!" she blurted out, then stopped abruptly as Becker's head jolted with surprise and one eyebrow arched so high on his forehead it was almost in his hairline. His mouth twitched with what looked like amusement, but she couldn't be sure. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes, then tried to clarify her statement.

"You asked me what I said at the graveside. I told you I loved you." She frowned. "Well, obviously it wasn't you, since you're not dead. I guess I don't know who it was. I think I told a complete stranger that I loved them. Or maybe the coffin was empty and I just told an empty box. Anyway, I thought it was you so I hope it's the thought that counts. I tried to tell you when the police came and took you away in handcuffs. But I couldn't. Not that you didn't look good in the handcuffs -"

Her ramblings petered out as Becker decided he had heard quite enough and placed his finger across her lips, bringing her eyes back to his, and a ghost of a smile to his mouth. Removing his finger from her lips, he braced both hands on the roof of the SUV, either side of her head, and leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. Almost in slow motion he dipped his head down to hers, giving her plenty of time to duck under his arm or push him away. She did neither of these things, choosing instead to drop her gaze to his mouth and his bruised and bloodied but still oh so kissable lips. Lips that twitched as Becker watched her face flush and heard her breathing become rapid and shallow the closer he got. Finally, and oh so softly, his mouth touched hers and Jess uttered a tiny sound of pure pleasure as her anticipation became reality. His lips moved on hers with slightly more pressure and his tongue caressed her lower lip, short circuiting Jess's brain. She lifted her hands to his chest to steady herself and felt him move his whole body closer, almost crushing her between his muscled torso and the SUV in his need to be as close to her as possible. And Jess didn't mind one bit as she stroked her hand up his neck and into his hair. She opened her mouth with an almost inaudible sigh and pressed herself against him, making him wince and scrunch up his eyes, but the pain was worth it.

Becker's whole body couldn't get close enough to Jess. His injuries complained loudly as he crushed her against him, but he didn't care. He was kissing her and she was letting him. In fact, she was kissing him back, most definitely. There could be no ambiguity this time. The way she was pressing herself against him. The way her hand was gripping his hair, pulling his head down to hers and holding it there. And if he had heard her correctly, she had just told him she loved him. The thousands of tiny electric shocks burning their way through his skin to his aching bones made his body quiver uncontrollably.

With great effort, and breathing hard, he pulled his head back slightly and rested his forehead gently against hers, trying to calm down. "I'm in love with you, Jessica Parker," he murmured, his voice low and deep and incredibly sexy, stopping her heartbeat abruptly and bringing goosebumps to Jess's arms.

_Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! _The girly part of Jess's brain squealed hysterically and silently inside her skull. On the outside, she reached her hand up to his face, stroked his cheek gently and tugged playfully on his beard, before standing on tiptoes and placing a brief, tender kiss to his lips. He closed his eyes, enveloped her in his arms and rested his chin on her head, breathing in deeply and letting the scent of her hair make him feel giddy. Jess closed her eyes, laid her cheek on his chest and listened as his heart rate slowed to a steady thump as she embedded herself in his body. She would be quite happy to stay here forever, wrapped up safe and warm in her bed of Becker.

There was a loud cough from behind them and Becker pulled back suddenly. Jess felt disappointed and bereft at the loss of his body against hers, but Becker kept one thigh pressed hard against her hip, not ready to lose that close contact just yet. She smiled at him, placing her hand on his chest possessively.

Abby appeared to their left, waving the mobile phone in her hand.

"Sorry to interrupt guys but I have Lieutenant Carter on the phone." She paused, placed the mobile on speakerphone and addressed the caller. "Carter, I have Captain Becker here with me. Can you please repeat what you've just told me?"

There was a crackle on the line, then Carter's loud, excited voice broke through.

"Captain, we have secured Mrs Becker. She is safe and well and we're taking her home." Another pause. "Good to know you're no longer incarcerated, sir!"

Abby grinned at Becker's stunned face. His legs nearly gave out from under him and Jess grabbed his arms forcefully to steady him. Becker's mouth goldfished, at a total loss for something to say, so Abby spoke for him.

"The Captain is very pleased to hear that, Carter," she told the Lieutenant, smiling. "He'll meet you there." She switched off the phone and inclined her head behind her, where Lester stood waiting beside his car.

Becker stared at his boss, quite unable to move.

"Captain Becker, much as I will enjoy my demotion from top civil servant to taxi driver, the meter is running and I won't wait all day!" Lester shouted irritably.

Movement suddenly discovered Becker's limbs and he turned his head to stare at Jess, still completely dumbfounded. She stroked his face and smiled, lovingly.

"Go," she told him, gently.

He looked over at Lester and then back to Jess again as if torn by his need to see his mother, and be reassured of her well being, and his overwhelming desire to remain with Jess. Seeing his indecision, Jess cupped his cheek and bound his eyes to hers.

"Go. Look after your mother. I'll still be here when you get back," she assured him softly.

He held her eyes with his, still reluctant to let go of her. Grinning, Jess pushed up onto her tiptoes, pressed her cheek to his and whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his lobe, making him shiver.

"I love you, Captain Becker. Now will you go?"

She sank back down to her normal height and saw his eyes brighten and a small smile twist his lips.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He leaned forward for a quick, but very fierce, kiss before jogging over to the waiting Lester as fast as his injured body would carry him.

As he climbed into the passenger seat of the Jaguar, he glanced back at Jess who blew him a kiss. Becker grinned and caught the kiss in his hand before pressing it to his cheek.

"Ugh!" Lester grimaced, his features contorted in disgust, before he hurriedly started the engine and exited the ARC.

* * *

><p>As they drove silently through the streets of London, Becker glanced at his boss.<p>

"Thank you," he said, sincerely. "I have no idea what you did to bring all this about, but thank you."

Lester nodded, unwilling to get all sentimental. More silence ensued until Lester's wheel hit a pothole. The car bounced and Becker hissed in pain. Lester looked over at his passenger and raised an eyebrow.

"Becker, is it possible for you to get any more beaten up?" he asked, sardonically.

Becker grinned. "I don't see how, sir."

Lester shook his head slowly. "We'll have Carter's medics look at you when we get to Hampshire," he said with an exasperated sigh. This was the boss showing much heartfelt concern.

The car fell silent again. Lester was not one for small talk or personal conversations and that suited Becker just fine. Lester drove with the concentration of raptor stalking its prey and Becker leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was asleep, restful for the first time in months.

They arrived at the Becker family home before Carter's SUV. As Lester drove down the mile long gravelled drive he glanced again at Becker who was still asleep, looking peaceful as far as Lester could tell under the beard that covered half his face. He sighed with envy as they rounded the driveway and the house came into view. The Becker home, not quite stately, but close to it, was large and old and had more windows than Lester cared to count. The impressive, landscaped grounds were in excess of twenty acres, including stables, orchards and bizarrely, but fittingly for this family, a shooting range.

Lester nudged Becker awake as he parked the car and a few minutes later, two black ARC SUVs crunched down the driveway. Becker, his injuries now stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, needed Lester's assistance to clamber out of the lowered Jaguar. At the same time, Mrs Becker was also accepting assistance from Matt and Carter to climb down from the raised gait of the 4x4. Matt and Carter escorted Mrs Becker, an arm each looped through hers, across the gravel to her son. She had been prepared on the way that her son was alive but badly injured. Neither Matt nor Carter had been sure of the extent of Becker's injuries but were pleased to see him here under his own steam. They deposited Mrs Becker in front of her son and took a couple of steps backwards.

Becker stared down at his mother, his heart breaking at how frail and elderly she looked. He recalled her vibrant smile, her dark hair and her relaxed features. Even after his father had died, she had not lost her gentleness nor her enjoyment of the world. But now she looked careworn, her face lined and tired, her hair more grey than he had remembered. She stood before him, staring at him blankly with her clouded green eyes.

"Hello Mother," Becker said fondly.

He heard his mother's sharp intake of breath at the sound of his voice and watched her face change rapidly as emotion after emotion rippled over her features. She reached out her hands and he took a step forward, catching her hands in his and guiding them to his face.

Her fingers recoiled as she touched his long hair and his beard and he chuckled at her reaction, a low deep sound that she obviously recognised because she placed her hands on his cheeks more firmly than before. Her hands wandered over his features, from his hairline to his jaw, pausing occasionally to stroke gently and lovingly each time he winced.

"My son," she murmured, wistfully as she pulled his head down towards her so he could kiss her cheek. Mother and son embraced and she closed her eyes briefly and sighed against his shoulder.

Mrs Becker pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on his arms. "It is wonderful to have you home, Hilary, darling," she said, smiling. "But please could you explain to me why you are disguised as a homeless person?"

Becker laughed, deep and resonating, and pulled his mother back into his embrace.

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><p><strong>AN Aaaaawwwwwww, all is well in the world. Jecker fluff and a cuddle with mummy. What more could a soldier boy ask for? :D :D :D :D :D**

**I would love your reviews. Next chapter is the last one - so if you have any fabulous ideas on how it should end, now is the time to voice them! :D :D :D**


	30. The Church

**A/N OK so I know I said this was going to be the last chapter, but I've written over 6000 words now and so have decided to break it into two chapters (you very lucky readers!). There may also be an M rated accompanying chapter later on so keep an eye out for it! :D**

**Anyway, as before, be warned of excessive Jecker fluff :D :D :D :D :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval. I do own a Connor Temple action figure, however. It is a very good job they don't make a Becker action figure because I would have some very bad plans for that little baby! :P Hehehehehehehehehe :D**

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><p>It had been three days since Becker's release from Paddington Green Police Station and Jess had not seen or heard from him in all that time. Lester had returned to the ARC that same night, letting her know that Becker was to stay with his mother for a few days. Still, he could have managed a phone call, couldn't he? Of course, she could always have rung him too, but felt loathe to disturb mother and son as they both came to terms with the events of the past few months.<p>

The ARC was almost back to normal after the repair crews had pulled three all-nighters and Jess was sat in her usual place at the ADD running diagnostics to ensure that their most important piece of equipment was functioning correctly. Connor hovered nearby, ostensibly in case Jess required his assistance, but truly under Abby's orders to keep an eye on their friend whom she knew to be missing Becker greatly. Abby herself was in the menagerie, supervising the final clean up.

Matt and Emily had taken a few days off as Matt was still recovering from his injuries. They were due to meet almost the entire ARC staff at the church later that afternoon.

Jess's comms crackled and Lieutenant Carter's voice intoned in her ear.

"Miss Parker, would you transfer us to a secure channel, please?"

"Of course," Jess tapped a few keys. "Done. What's the problem Carter that requires a secure channel?" Her curiosity was heightened by Carter's next remark.

"Have you checked the CCTV feeds today Miss Parker?" he asked.

"Not yet, Carter, but its next on my list. Why?" Jess was frowning. Why would Carter need to know about CCTV feeds?

"May I suggest you check the armoury feed first?"

"Ok-ay," said Jess, elongating the word as she fiddled on the ADD to bring up the camera on her screen. The picture was a little grainy, and Jess knew she would have some work to do on that later, but then she realised what she was looking at. Or rather, who.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, rather more loudly than she had intended.

"Thought you needed to know," Carter stated in her ear.

"Yes, yes, I did. Thank you, Carter," Jess whispered, still staring at her screens. The comms went dead and Jess sighed. There in the armoury, all groomed and clean-shaven, hair as short as she had ever seen it, was Becker, cleaning his beloved shotgun. Feeling a rush of love, adoration and something akin to desperation, Jess called over her shoulder to Connor.

"Connor? Will you watch the ADD for me please? I - er - have something I need to do -"

She tapped her keys to shut down the feed but not before Connor had seen it over her shoulder. He grinned as he sank into her chair.

"Say hi to Action Man for me!" he called as she hurried away.

* * *

><p>She walked into the armoury but Becker didn't even look up, even though he must have heard her heels clattering all the way down the corridor. Jess skidded to a halt in the doorway.<p>

"Becker?"

He looked up at the sound of her voice and seemed visibly shaken to see her.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked hoarsely.

Jess smiled. "Lieutenant Carter. I think he was worried about you."

Becker managed a small smile in return.

"Why didn't you come to the Ops Room?" asked Jess, moving slightly further into the room, but keeping her distance, suddenly unsure of their situation.

"I couldn't - I didn't want -" he didn't finish and looked back down at his gun instead.

Jess breathed in deeply. "Are you hiding from me?" she asked, worriedly.

Becker shook his head vigorously and Jess let out the breath she had been holding.

"Just from, you know - the others," he managed and shrugged.

Understanding suddenly hit Jess's brain.

"Hero status too much for you?" she asked gently, smiling.

He looked up at her then. "Oh God, is that what they think?" he looked panicked.

She closed the distance between them then, her face open and grinning.

"But you are a hero! You saved all of us! You saved the ARC!" she gushed, stopping just in front of him, gazing down at him adoringly.

Becker squirmed. "I'm not a hero, Jess. If it weren't for me, no-one would have needed saving in the first place," he said quietly.

Jess frowned, irritated. She put her hands on his cheeks and lifted his face until he was staring up at her, his eyes empty. "Oh no you don't!" she told him forcefully. "You are so not going to blame yourself for this one! You are not at fault!"

He smiled ruefully and disbelievingly at her.

"You are the hero!" she insisted. "Rider and Kabir are the ones at fault - not you! Think about how many more lives you saved rather than the ones we lost! The casualty list would have been a lot higher were it not for you - including me!"

His eyes widened almost in fear at the thought of what he could have lost. Jess stroked his cheek gently and lowered her voice, just above a whisper.

"But we're all still here because of how brilliant you are," she told him, her eyes searching his to ensure he got the message.

Becker huffed slightly, embarrassed, but managed a half smile for the young brunette woman giving him a pep talk. "Thank you, Jess," he murmured, without sarcasm.

"Well," Jess said, letting her hands drop from his face and stepping back slightly. "I've got to go and get ready for the - the - thing - this afternoon. Lester has practically ordered everyone to be there. Not that he could keep anyone away if he tried, of course! The ARC is going to be practically empty this afternoon!"

She stopped abruptly as she saw Becker's haunted face.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "That was thoughtless of me!" She started to back away, to make her exit from the armoury and him, when his large hands reached out and grabbed hold of her waist. Forcefully, he pulled her too him and buried his face in her stomach, clinging to her like a small child.

She sighed softly and stroked his hair tenderly. "You ok?" she asked, carefully.

Against her stomach, Becker shook his head and Jess thought this was the first time she had ever seen him allow himself to look so vulnerable. She continued to stroke his hair soothingly until he huffed quietly and relaxed his grip on her waist, sitting back upright on the bench, his hands still encircling her loosely. She reached down and lifted his head back up so she could see his face. Softly she rubbed her thumbs across his cheeks and smiled.

"You lost the beard," she whispered.

"Someone important to me didn't like it," Becker told her solemnly eliciting a huge grin from her which he managed to return with some sincerity. They gazed at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither wanting to break the moment.

But the spell was broken as Carter coughed loudly behind them.

"Its time, sir," he said, quietly.

Becker stood and Jess moved back slightly, expecting him to grab his hands back from her waist as if scalded. He didn't. Instead his hands increased their hold on her as he pulled her bodily against him. She gasped, clutched at his shoulders and looked up at him in surprise, the unexpected contact causing her body to tremble and her face to blush a heated shade of pink.

Becker stroked one of his hands from her waist, up her back, her neck, along her jaw and into her hair. Jess responded by rubbing each area he touched sensuously against his hand, allowing her body to bend closer into his. Entangling his fingers in her hair and breathing heavily now, Becker dipped his head and captured her lips with his and her immediate and passionate response made him feel like he was being electrocuted.

Carter coughed loudly again, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Jess leapt back, blushing furiously and Becker smirked, placing a more chaste kiss to her forehead.

"I - I'd better go -" she stumbled, her whole body shaking.

Becker steadied her with his hand, rubbing her arm gently.

"I'll see you there," he said, soberly. She turned and walked towards Carter, his face now serious, placing a gentle, reassuring pat on his arm as she passed him, and exited the armoury. Becker's eyes never once left her retreating form.

* * *

><p>Jess sat in the church filled with ARC personnel. Most of the soldiers were there, leaving only a small contingency back at the ARC. Half the techs and many of the field teams were also assembled. She was sat towards the rear of the church, with Matt and Emily on her left, closest to the aisle, and Abby and Connor on her right. They were all holding hands in support of one another. Lester sat at the front of the church, looking at his watch every now and then. Everyone waited in silence, there were no words to say. Jess sighed, remembering the last time she had worn this black suit, and Abby squeezed her hand reassuringly. Jess smiled and the church doors opened. Everyone stood.<p>

The coffin was borne in on the shoulders of six ARC soldiers, all clad in dress uniform with hats, sashes and ceremonial swords. Becker and Carter led the cortege, the box heavy on their shoulders, doing their duty for their fallen comrade. The coffin was placed carefully on a plinth at the front of the church, the soldiers saluting respectfully before taking their seats reserved on the front pew. The vicar moved forward and addressed the congregation.

"It is wonderful to see so many family, friends and colleagues here today. Captain Hutchens was clearly well liked and respected by those with whom he worked as well as treasured by his family. Together we will rejoice in his life and mourn his passing in the line of duty, doing the job he loved."

After the service, the ARC personnel congregated in the car park, sharing stories of their short but memorable association with Captain Hutchens. Only Lester was to go to the family wake, it was felt best that the family's grief was not imposed upon by the soldiers. Jess remained with Abby and Connor whilst Becker pulled Lieutenant Carter to one side and spoke briefly to him.

"Carter, just down the road from here there's a pub called The Green Man. I put some money behind the bar earlier. Make sure you and the men give Hutch a good send off."

Carter started in surprise. "Thank you sir. You're not coming?"

Becker shook his head. "I have something else to take care of," he murmured absently.

He was still facing Carter but his gaze was distracted elsewhere. Carter followed his line of sight across the car park to the young Field Co-Ordinator.

Carter grinned from ear to ear. "Yes sir." Turning his attention back to the Captain, Carter changed the subject. "When are you due back at work, sir?"

Becker dragged his eyes from Jess and looked at his 2IC, frowning. "Officially, I'm still on medical leave for another week."

"Yes sir," said Carter, amazed that his boss was even contemplating taking medical leave - it was so unlike him.

Then Becker grinned. "Unofficially, I'll see you back at the ARC tomorrow morning."

Carter chuckled. "Yes sir."

The two men nodded before parting company.

He strode over to where Matt, Emily, Abby, Connor and Jess were waiting beside an ARC SUV. They all exchanged hugs before Becker asked if he could borrow Jess for the rest of the day. Jess's eyes widened and the team smirked knowingly at each other. None of them decided to say anything to Becker's face, however, much to his relief.

He led Jess to the SUV he had driven to the funeral and helped her into the passenger seat before hopping into the driver's side himself. Jess looked at him, a million questions in her head. She voiced only one.

"Where are we going?" she asked, softly.

Becker gazed at her with warm eyes. "Will you come with me and meet my mother?" he asked her, suddenly nervous that she might refuse.

Jess smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'd love to!"

"We just need to stop by your flat and change first." He saw Jess's quizzical face.

He gestured his uniform. "I don't want to upset my mother with the dress uniform," he clarified. "As an army wife she associates it with bad news and funerals." He paused. "I assumed you might want to change too. I already have my clothes in the boot but thought you'd want to choose your own."

She smiled at him, gratefully. "Then lets go," she told him, gently.

* * *

><p>Halfway to Hampshire, Jess realised Becker was very quiet. She allowed her gaze to caress him slowly and she smiled with self-satisfaction. He really was a fine looking man. Even still bruised and scarred as he was, he was still beautiful. Her smile grew as she watched him drive; the concentration on his face, the way his eyebrows flicked every now and then as he glanced into the rear view mirror, the way his muscled flexed in his forearms when he adjusted the steering slightly. He was dressed simply and yet what he wore suited him perfectly. A tight black t-shirt (was there any other colour?) that enhanced his muscle tone. His firm, rounded biceps, hard and smooth pectorals and abdominals so completely defined she could count them all. He wore jeans, loosely slung around his hips, a black leather belt keeping them in place and, finally, black combat boots. She snickered to herself. Once a soldier, always a soldier. Becker glanced at her curiously, his hazel eyes taking on a soft greenish hue in the sunlight, almost melting Jess into a puddle of desire on the passenger seat.<p>

Becker stared back out of the windscreen again. He was trying not to think about how he felt seeing her in that dress. The one she was wearing right now. The one she had changed into not half an hour ago. He was failing spectacularly. He had stood waiting for her in her living room. He was more than a little impatient as he had taken only ten minutes to change out of his dress uniform. He had been kept waiting a further ten - at least. But then she had appeared from her bedroom doorway and the breath had been knocked out of him. She stood there, shyly, looking for his approval and all he could do was goldfish. It was a beautiful summers day so she had chosen a simple, floaty sun dress. It was white cotton, appliquéd with tiny yellow and green flowers and green buttons from neckline to hem. She had accessorized it with a green belt, accentuating her tiny waist, and a green ribbon tied her hair back loosely at the nape of her neck. Then he noticed the patent green shoes, with yellow buttoned fastenings and high wedge heels. He could never tell her the image that passed through his head at that moment - the force of his desire had shocked him so much that he had been unable to look at her for any length of time since. He still couldn't get his voice to work - he was too afraid it would come out strangled. He loved and cursed that dress all at the same time.

Jess reached over and touched his hand gently, sending electric sparks coursing through his body. Managing to conquer his desire momentarily, he glanced at her and smiled, dimpling his cheek. She smiled softly back, reassured.

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><p><strong>AN OK needed to break it there, hope that's ok. I'm halfway through the next 3000 words so don't worry it will be up soon. What will happen when Jess meets Ma Becker? And I think it will be the last chapter - but it depends on how carried away I get! :D**

**PLEASE REVIEW - I'D LOVE TO GET TO 400! WOW! :D**


	31. The Two Women He Loved

**A/N Well, here it is everyone - the final chapter! Eeek! And actually its not slow and gentle anymore! I have tweaked it a bit (sorry) to show some of what happened in the orchard that I don't think needs to be M-rated...let me know if you do!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval, its belongs to ITV and Impossible Pictures (the lucky buggers!). But I have kidnapped Ben Mansfield. He's currently handcuffed to my bedpost, naked, covered in chocolate sauce and enjoying every damn minute of it...hehehehehehehe :P**

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><p>They arrived at the Becker family home around 2pm. It was still very warm as Becker drove the SUV down the mile long gravel drive to the house. Jess's eyes became saucers as the house came into view.<p>

"Wow!" she cried. "This is your home?"

"Its the house where I grew up. London is my home now," Becker told her, a little flatly. Boarding school and Sandhurst had removed any emotional attachment the soldier may once have felt for his childhood home.

A tall, thin lady, smartly dressed in a blue skirt and silk blouse, with greying hair and an exceptionally pointy nose, stood waiting for them on the steps to the impressive front entrance.

"Who's that?" whispered Jess, feeling quite intimidated by the woman's glare.

Becker smirked. "That's Mrs Jessop. She's my mother's housekeeper. She likes to think she's in charge."

Jess glanced at him and saw a mischievous look in his eyes. "And you like to remind her that she's not?" she queried with a conspiratorial laugh.

Becker grinned. "Only every day since I was five!"

He parked the car and told Jess to wait. She frowned, wondering why, only to watch him run around the bonnet of the SUV to open the car door for her. He held out his hand and helped her down, torturing himself as he stood too close and her body brushed down his thigh.

Mrs Jessop walked forward to greet them.

"Captain Becker," she said addressing him by rank, rather than by name, her voice as uptight as her appearance. "Your mother is in the rose garden. She is expecting you."

"Thank you, Mrs Jessop," replied Becker, respectfully and, taking Jess's hand, led her leisurely in the direction of the rose garden.

"I'll send Iris out with the tea!" Mrs Jessop called after them and Becker raised his hand in the air by way of acknowledgement, but didn't turn around.

"Who's Iris?" enquired Jess, quietly.

"Iris is my mother's cook," he stated matter-of-factly.

Jess stopped mid-stride. "You have a housekeeper and a cook?" she gasped.

Becker's mouth twisted in amusement at Jess's surprise. "My mother also has a butler and a gardener," he told her somewhat smugly.

Jess gaped and shook her head in wonderment whilst at the same time noting that he had said "my mother" and not "we". He really was emotionally distant from everything in his life. Becker lifted the hand he held and kissed it softly.

"They are the only companions she has had since my father died," he muttered quietly. Jess squeezed his hand in return and they continued on to the rose garden.

As they rounded the corner, Jess saw a beautiful walled garden full of roses of every colour she could think of: red, pink, yellow, orange, peach, white. She almost squealed in delight as she trailed her fingers over the soft petals, breathing in their gorgeous scent. Becker pulled her away from the flowers in the direction of a large suite of wooden patio furniture. Seated quietly in one corner was an elderly lady, poised and genteel, and unmistakeably Becker's mother. She sat very straight, her head held up, her softly greying hair neatly arranged in a bun at the nape of her neck, her delicate hands placed neatly in her lap. She was dressed immaculately in a cream twin-set and rust linen trousers. Suddenly nervous, Jess smoothed down the skirt of her dress and Becker curled his arm around her waist reassuringly.

"Hello Mother," he said, gently, not wanting to startle her. She smiled and turned her head towards the sound of his deep voice.

"Hilary!" she returned and Jess realised the lady may have looked frail, but her voice was strong and clear.

Becker left Jess's side to stand before his mother and take her hand in his. The elderly lady beamed at her only son, clasping his hand in both of hers.

"Mother, there is someone I'd like you to meet -" Becker began and Jess was surprised to detect a nervousness in his voice that she had never heard before. Becker motioned her forward and she moved towards him, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to tug her to him. Letting go of his mother's hands he pulled out a chair for Jess and she sat down, her knees almost touching Mrs Becker's.

"Its lovely to meet you, Mrs Becker," she murmured quietly, feeling completely unsure of herself. Only then did Mrs Becker turn her head to look at her and Jess realised that her green eyes, so like her son's, were clouded and dark.

Mrs Becker reached forward and grasped Jess's hands firmly. She moved her fingers up Jess's arms towards her face. As her fingertips touched the younger girl's features she stroked them slowly and deliberately as if committing them to memory. It was at this moment Jess realised that Becker's mother was blind. She sat patiently as the elderly lady familiarized herself with her face and her hair, smiling gently the entire time. At last the lady sat back in her chair and smiled at Jess.

"You are everything I knew you would be, Jessica dear," she said, with a sigh of satisfaction and Jess knew, as she watched Becker squirm slightly, that she had either been discussed or this perceptive lady had known her emotionally inadequate son had finally lost his heart.

The moment was broken by Iris with the tea. Jess decided she liked Iris much better than Mrs Jessop. She was everything a cook should be. She was short and plump, greying hair covered in flour, with a cheery face, red cheeks and a permanent smile. She wore a garish floral print dress under her black apron, also covered in flour. Iris chuckled as she poured the tea and commented on life in her thick northern accent.

"Oooh, Mrs Jessop is in a right tizz at the sight of you, Miss Parker!" she exclaimed cheerfully, causing Jess to blush and Becker to roll his eyes, irritated. She poured Mrs Becker's tea and placed the cup and saucer carefully in her mistress's hand.

"Thank you, Iris," murmured Mrs Becker quietly, in a tone that made Jess wonder if she was talking about the tea or warning Iris about her gossip.

"Yes mum," said Iris, her smile never faltering. "Black tea, Captain Becker," she passed Becker a mug instead of a cup and saucer, knowing how the soldier disliked the dainty crockery. "And Miss Parker?"

"Milky, one sugar, please," Jess smiled warmly at Iris and Becker dropped his hand possessively onto her shoulder making Jess suppress a shudder of pleasure.

Iris grinned hugely at the couple and opened her mouth to comment on how pleased she was that the young Captain had finally found someone special. Mrs Becker intervened.

"Thank you, Iris. How is the baking coming along?"

"Ooh fine, Mrs B," exclaimed Iris. "Muffins are cooling, brownies are, well, browning, hee hee hee, and I'm just waiting for the yeast to work its magic on the bread!"

"Sounds wonderful!" sighed Jess wistfully.

Iris patted her hand. "I'll pack some up for you when you're ready to leave. Can't have you career girls all starving at work, now can we?" The cook chuckled and winked at Jess, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"That will be all now, thank you Iris," said Mrs Becker pleasantly, but in a tone not brooking any argument from the cook.

Chuckling happily to herself, Iris went back to tend to her rising bread.

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><p>Becker stood at Jess's side, his hand on her shoulder, as the young woman chatted away easily with his mother. Jess was amazed at how gentle and giving the elder woman was, despite the very trying circumstances of the past few months. She couldn't even begin to imagine how terrifying it must have been for Mrs Becker, unable to see her captors or her unfamiliar surroundings, relying only on her formidable presence of mind to maintain her composure through all the madness. The two women discovered they had a lot in common: the same optimism, a similar sense of humour, and an obvious love for the same man. Mrs Becker, inviting Jess to address her as Marie, gently questioned the girl about herself and chuckled as the younger woman described working with Becker.<p>

"He can be grumpy and a little anxious. But there's no-one better in an emergency. And no-one whom I trust more with the safety of our colleagues, or myself," Jess felt Becker's hand tighten on her shoulder and she glanced up at him momentarily. There was an odd look on his face that she could not identify. Frowning worriedly, she looked back at Mrs Becker. "And then, of course, he brings me chocolate, just when I need it," she laughed.

Marie smiled indulgently at her son. "He brings me chocolate too," she confessed, with pleasure. "He knows how much I adore it!"

"And how little you're allowed it, Mother," muttered Becker, grumpily.

There was a pause before Jess risked a question that she had often wondered.

"What was he like as a child?" she asked softly and felt Becker tense beside her. She chewed her lip, nervously, but Marie was not perturbed by the question. Instead she smiled broadly and patted Jess's hand.

"Much the same dear! He was a very sweet child when he was small, but became grumpy and tense in his late teens. He's just like his father. Its an army thing, my dear - they're all like that. Too much responsibility on too young a shoulders," she reached out her other hand, groping for her son, and he took it gratefully, squeezing gently.

Jess smiled at the interaction, noticing how much mother and son relied on each other.

Mrs Jessop appeared after a short while, demanding that Mrs Becker have a lie down. Marie sighed, not wanting to leave her guests, but knowing it was doctor's orders after her ordeal. Before she stood, she leaned forward to kiss Jess's cheek.

"It was lovely to meet you, Marie," Jess murmured into her embrace.

"And you, Jessica, dear. You have no idea," whispered Marie into the younger woman's ear. "I do hope very soon that you will be able to call me Mother." Jess's eyes widened and she was unable to suppress her gasp at Mrs Becker's suggestion.

Chuckling at Jess's reaction, Marie stood and patted her son's arm.

"Why not show Jess the house and grounds, Hilary dear?" she suggested.

Having missed the women's exchange, Becker smiled and nodded and his mother was led away by a very protective Mrs Jessop.

Jess regained her composure and stood up, close to Becker, and he leaned down for a brief kiss; their first since arriving at the house. He took her hand and led her through the glass doors into the Garden Room.

* * *

><p>The house was huge, Jess decided as they moved from room to room, each room having a name and a story to go with it. Becker clearly loved this house, even if he didn't consciously allow himself any attachment to it, as each story brought a fresh smile to his face and something akin to wistful longing for days gone by. The last room they visited was Becker's childhood bedroom. His face became odd when he opened the door and Jess snuck inside under his arm, excited to see some more personal echoes of the man she loved.<p>

The room was large, in keeping with the rest of the house, with a large wooden single bed in one corner, lots of shelving and pictures on the walls and, best of all for Jess, the hugest wardrobe that would not have looked out of place in a Narnia film. She was immediately drawn to it and flung open its doors, disappointment flooding her when she discovered it was empty.

"I don't stay here very often," Becker voice was quiet behind her. "And when I do, I stay in the guest wing."

Jess turned to him, her face incredulous. He stayed as a guest in his own home? Talk about over-excessive emotional detachment! He looked strangely sad so she stroked his cheek and managed to gain the smallest of smiles from him.

She studied the rest of the room. It was like a shrine to the young Becker. All his old boarding school photos adorned the walls: cute Becker at age 5, goofy Becker aged 8, gangly Becker aged 15, and officer cadet Becker on joining Sandhurst. There were framed medals and awards for bravery and courage and outstanding military service. Becker squirmed, embarrassed as she read them all out loud. Smiling at his discomfort, Jess moved across the room towards the mahogany bed, atop which sat a well-worn teddy bear. Lifting it into her arms and cooing at it, Jess buried her face in its fluffy head and lifted her eyes to the soldier, her soldier. Meeting Jess's eyes over the head of his childhood bear made Becker's heart race and his body burn with desire. There was just something so alluring about it. Wrong, but alluring. As she turned to place the bear back onto the pillow she suddenly felt his hard body behind her, his hands roaming over her dress, his lips burning their way through the nape of her neck. She gasped and stiffened, her entire being wanting him. She shuddered as he continued to plant feather soft kisses across her skin and his hands wandered leisurely across every inch of her personal space. He lifted his mouth to her ear and she felt his breath hot and needy.

"I am going to make love to you today," he whispered huskily.

Jess curled her arm upwards and behind her, entangling her fingers into his hair, leaning her head back against his shoulder and arching her body against his hands. She turned her face so she was looking directly into his eyes, hers wide and excited, his dark with lust.

"I'm counting on it, soldier boy," she mumbled softly before pulling his mouth down on hers for a fierce, bruising kiss.

Suddenly Becker pulled back, as if shocked by his actions. He strode quickly back towards the door, breathing heavily and wanting to put some distance between them before his baser needs overtook him completely. He disappeared so suddenly that Jess nearly fell backwards where she had been leaning against him. She steadied herself on the bedpost, her body tingling and shaking. Becker managed a short laugh at their predicament before holding out his hand to her.

"Come on, let me show you the gardens," he muttered thickly and literally dragged Jess outside.

Confused, her body still trembling delightfully from his touch, Jess followed him down the large, opulent staircase and out into the garden. Once outside, Becker dropped her hand and strode out purposefully across the lawn. Jess trotted after him, wondering what on earth was going on. Catching up to him she called his name and he turned towards her.

"This way!" he smiled, a little too broadly, leading her off towards a large, mature orchard. His fingers grazed hers briefly, setting her body alight once more, before he moved away again. Had he meant to do that? Jess wasn't sure but even that slight touch had her wanting him.

She lost sight of him in the apple trees and picked her way carefully across the uneven ground. Suddenly his arm appeared in front of her, fruit clasped in his hand.

"Apple?" he grinned at her as his face peered out from behind the tree. He reached out and stroked his hand gently down her arm before placing the apple in her palm, his fingers caressing her skin. She trembled. He definitely meant to do that. What the hell was he playing at? She looked up at him with wide eyes and saw his mouth twist, his eyes twinkling and dark under the foliage. Ah, so that was it, he was teasing her. Well, two could play that game. She took a bite of the apple, letting the juices trickle down her chin, before licking her lips slowly. She was rewarded with a quiet groan from Becker and he banged his head against the tree, almost beaten at his own game.

Jess walked past him, reaching up for apples on branches above her head, the wind catching the floaty material of her skirt and lifting it slightly, showing her shapely thighs and increasing Becker's ardour. He leant against the tree, staring at her, his need for her making his jeans feel tight. Suddenly the sun broke through the canopy of the trees, shining through Jess's white cotton dress and revealing all to the watching soldier. It was then that Becker lost control...

Jess half turned as she heard his low growl and had the wind knocked out of her as Becker's large body barrelled into her and pinned her against the nearest apple tree. She could only manage a gasp as he forced his leg between hers, kicking her feet apart, and crushing her between his hips and the tree trunk. Gripping her head firmly, hard enough to bruise, he slammed his lips down on hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Jess struggled against him knowing he was far too strong for her. She panicked and began hitting and pushing at his shoulders with her hands but this only encouraged him to increase his hold on her. Finally, in a move Becker himself had taught her, she brought her wedge heel crashing down onto his instep and simultaneously entangled her fingers in his hair and yanked so hard that dark strands came away with her fingers. Becker yelped as she dragged his head from hers. Jess got ready to punch him in much the same way she had Hutchens, but something stopped her.

It wasn't the look on his face. That was cold and needy and angry. But there was something in his eyes, something that made her heart stop beating and her harsh words die in her throat. Frustration and fury and fear fused together into helplessness and hopelessness. She observed his internal battle through the open windows of his eyes. He was a soldier, he was familiar with killing and death and brutality. But he was also a good man, and none of that had ever sat well with him. He had constructed walls to protect himself but, having allowed his feelings for Jess freedom since his return to the ARC, other emotions had also started to seep slowly through his armour. Now, the extreme circumstances of the last few months had suddenly come crashing through his carefully crafted self-control and, once lost, Becker had no way of keeping his anger and frustration and utter hopelessness in check. She realised that this was all part of the same despair she had seen in the armoury this morning. Hutch's funeral, another man whose fate Becker felt responsible for, had brought all this to the fore. She had to help him, to guide him, to absolve him of his guilt, to bring her Becker back to her.

She reached up both hands and placed them on either side of his face. His mouth was twisted into a snarl as he panted heavily, trying to regain some measure of control. His eyes were narrowed and feral and sent a shiver of fear down Jess's spine.

"Becker," she whispered, her palms gentle on his cheeks.

His eyes cleared slightly and he blinked. "Jessica, you need to get away from me. NOW. Get as far away from me as possible. I'm - I'm a monster!" he choked out the words, unable to comprehend what was happening.

She stroked his face sending lightning strikes across his skin and he increased his grip on her again, cursing and grabbing at her, trying to kiss her again.

With monumental effort, Jess managed to keep his face at a distance, her hands now crushed against his cheeks with the force of her resistance.

"Ease down, soldier!" she commanded, with a determination in her voice, strengthened by her love for him.

He blinked and stopped pushing towards her, but his muscles remained tense and contracted, squashing her hard against the tree. He glared at her and she stared back, eyebrows lifted. She raised her chin.

"I'm not afraid of you, Hilary Becker!" she declared with as much bravado as she could muster. "You can't frighten or intimidate me. You never could."

That wasn't quite true. Right now she was terrified. Terrified she couldn't help him, terrified that if she didn't he would be unable to stop himself from an act she knew would consume him every day until it finally drove him mad. And a little voice in the back of her head reminded her that this man knew a hundred different ways to kill her with his bare hands, a thought she immediately hid away in a deep, dark corner of her mind.

Becker's face remained cold and hard as he glared at her, his mouth still curled up in a silent snarl, like a predator toying with its prey. Jess rubbed his cheekbone with her thumb ever so gently and he shuddered under her hand.

"I know you. I know how protective you are, how gentle," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. "I know my Becker. I want my Becker back." She continued to gently stroke his cheeks, his face, his hair and felt his body gradually begin to relax under her hands. His eyes lost their rawness and his face slackened, his snarl dropping from his lips, the taut jaw line losing its grip on his features.

"Shhhhhh," she whispered. "My Becker, shhhhhhhh."

His breath came in short sharp gasps as his hazel eyes softened and then realisation dawned in them. Panic hit his face and she had to grip his shoulders with her hands, this time to prevent him from leaping away from her.

"Oh God, Jess!" he exclaimed, suddenly aware of what he had almost done to her, to them. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" He kept trying to pull away but Jess refused to let him.

She continued to stroke his face and hair, murmuring soothingly to him.

"Shhhhh Becker, shhhhhhh. Its ok now, its ok now."

All the fight left his limbs and she felt his body slump in defeat. His head dropped onto her shoulder and she moved her hands from his face and hair to his back and neck. She felt his shoulders heave and something warm and wet trickled down her skin making her hair damp. She gasped in surprise and lifted his head gently with her hands. Becker's face was stained with tears and Jess's heart snapped at the sight of him. There was something so wretched about seeing this strong man overwhelmed like this. He had been broken down molecularly, his faith and confidence in the world utterly destroyed, and if she didn't do something soon to restore it, he would be left as an empty shell of the man he once was. She blamed Rider and Kabir and MI6 and did the only thing there was left for her to do for him. She got angry.

She became aware he was mumbling something, quietly and not directly to her, just away to himself and the trees. She caught some of the words, "bad man" and "murderer" and "no-one near me".

She cupped his head gently with her hands and brought his eyes to hers, moving her own head to hang onto his gaze even as he tried to look away.

"No," she told him fervently. "Absolutely not. Kabir and Rider are the bad men, the murderers. You were just caught up in their violence. You are a good man." He looked doubtful. "You are!" she insisted.

"I should have stopped them," his voice cracked like shattered glass.

"But you did stop them! No-one could have done more than you did!" Jess cried.

"I should have stopped them before the bomb," he moaned, continuing his mental flagellation.

Jess shook her head. "You couldn't have prevented it. They would have done that with or without you. But you stopped them from hurting anyone else!"

"Jess," his voice was broken, unrecognisable and not a decibel above a whisper. "I've become a monster." He looked so heart-breakingly sad that Jess leaned forward and pressed her lips to his mouth as tenderly as she could.

"I love you," her voice was soft against his face. "And I could never love a monster." She smiled at him as if this proved her point completely. His features lightened with hope, then fell again.

"You're so soft-hearted, you love everybody," he told her bleakly. "You even preferred the mammoth to me when we first met."

Despite the situation, Jess chuckled. "Becker, everybody loves the mammoth - even Lester!"

Becker's lips twitched involuntarily in what Jess hoped was the beginnings of a smile. She kissed him again, so softly, so tenderly, and she felt him shudder in her arms. Was she getting through to him?

He stared at her, his face creased, his eyes pained. "You can forgive me?" he asked quietly.

"Becker," she murmured. "The world is full of horrid people doing unforgivable things. You are not one of them. But sometimes good people get drawn into the badness." She stroked his cheek and encouragingly he leant his head into her hand. "You can't let it drag you down. You have to let it go and be the strong, good man I know you are. The good man I fell in love with. My protector, my hero, my Becker."

His breathing became heavy again and Jess held hers. This was it, he was going to go one way or the other. Either his hatred for himself would consume him again, or she had reached him and brought him back out of his darkness.

As she watched, something clicked into place in his hazel eyes. Strength returned banishing the despair and she literally saw his whole body re-inflate as he breathed in deeply. He leant down to her as if to press his lips to hers. She stiffened, momentarily frightened, but his mouth barely grazed hers before he lifted his head again and stroked her cheek with his large hand.

"How did you get to be so brilliant?" he sighed.

Jess grinned at his use of the familiar word. "It's a talent!" she said most un-modestly.

He smiled back at her, genuinely this time, and Jess reached up and trailed her fingers across his dimple.

"So, you were in there somewhere," she murmured and pressed her mouth to his in a slow, soft, loving kiss. Becker held very still, afraid of his response.

Jess leaned back against the tree, her eyes locked with his. "Becker, slowly and gently," she instructed quietly.

Becker looked at her, stupefied. "What?"

She reached up, her hands in his hair, and pulled him down to her. She pressed her mouth to his again but this time, although her kiss was still gentle and tender, it was more demanding than her soothing kisses of a moment before. It demanded his response. Becker pulled back, staring at her.

"Jess - I - what?" he struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"Slowly and gently," she told him with a small smile, her hands tugging at his t-shirt. His body had already begun to respond when his brain caught up with what she wanted.

"What? You still want to - ? Even after I - ?" Becker's eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised in such surprise that it could have been likened to horror.

"You promised me, soldier boy," Jess told him petulantly.

Realising his reluctance, Jess leant towards him and kissed him again, teasing his lip with her tongue and eliciting a soft moan from him. She stroked his face and murmured against his mouth.

"Slowly and gently, Becker."

Becker met her eyes and swallowed audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing and his jaw tensing. "Slowly and gently," he repeated in wonderment. "I can do that."

"I know," smiled Jess as she pulled his t-shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and ran her palms gently up his ribs.

Becker shuddered and pressed her back up against the tree very much more carefully than the last time. His kiss was gentle but ardent, his passion building. Jess twisted against him and winced. Becker looked down at her and realised her quandary.

"Is that tree comfortable?" he asked with a twist of a smile on his lips.

She gazed up at him, into his now warm hazel eyes and rewarded him with a lopsided grin.

"Not really," she confessed, almost ruefully.

"Then let's see what we can do about that, shall we?" In one fluid movement, Becker swung her up into his arms, one arm around her waist, the other hooked under her knees. She clutched at his shoulders with a small cry of surprise.

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><p>At 5pm on the dot, Mrs Jessop sent Holland, Mrs Becker's gardener, to find the errant Captain and his young lady. He saw them walking across the lawn, holding hands and giggling like a pair of teenagers. The Captain appeared exemplary as always, but the young miss looked a little dishevelled and was that? Yes! A grass stain on the skirt of her white dress. Her hair had been hastily tied back, tendrils escaping over her ears and forehead, and Captain Becker reached over and pulled a leaf from her auburn locks before kissing her cheek as she blushed. Holland grinned, knowing very well what they had been up to and he was glad of it. Captain Becker had been alone for far too long.<p>

Crossing the lawn more rapidly, he met them within sight of the rose garden.

"Your mother is calling you for tea, Captain Becker," he told the soldier, whom he had known as a young boy.

Becker smiled at the old man, still employed as the gardener, when in reality a team of younger men landscaped the grounds whilst Holland pruned the roses and kept his mother company.

"Thank you, Holland," Becker said warmly, having great respect for the older man.

He could see his mother was already seated in her usual spot, the teapot and freshly made brownies waiting for them on the table. Keeping his hand on the small of Jess's back, Becker guided her towards the patio and pulled out a chair for her to sit down. The look she gave him, one of adoration, adulation and desire, made his skin prickle wonderfully and he smiled, his eyes mirroring hers.

Becker sat himself across the table from Jess, leaning back in his chair so he could rest his feet on another seat comfortably, crossing them at the ankles. The sun shone brightly overhead. The bees buzzed gently in the roses. The birds twittered cheerfully in the trees of the orchard. And Becker gazed warmly, a soft smile twitching on his lips, at the faces of the two women he loved, finally finding some measure of peace.

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><p><strong>AN So, in the immortal words of Porky Pig - "That's all Folks!" I hope I have tied up all the loose ends. If you can think of any I have missed, please let me know! :D**

**If you want to know exactly what happened in the orchard - there will be an M rated fic up in a few days (for those of you who are old enough!). As the angst is now in this chapter it will just be lots of lovely Jecker sex! :D :D :D :D :D**

**Special thanks must go to ALP and Lovingthis for their unswerving support in my darkest hours (especially chapter 19!), to Jnevadub232 for her fantastic reviews and copious amounts of rum & coke, to Lezzles1956 for being the only one to guess Mrs Becker was blind from the previous chapter and for her amazing artwork for this story which now has pride of place on my new LJ page (uhavelovelyhair), to Esmerelda Diana Parker for the voodoo dolls (!) and to JetBecker for creating an account just to review this story! :D  
><strong>

**Also, much much love to all of you who took the time to review this story so diligently and for your kind words and reassurances when I thought my writing was a bit rubbish! This story would not have been possible without each and every one of you and I cannot quite believe how many reviews this story has acheived:**

**andrewleepotts, lovingthis, jnevadub232, lezzles1956, asheryve (did I lose you?), juls124, JustEllee, BethBecker, Verano1-BeautyInTheBreakdown (did I lose you too?), beckerandjess4eva, Heyarandomgal, SonarLunar, ArodLoverus2001, potterprimevalabbytemple (did I lose you as well?), Katy-alice Cullen, The Sheep of Destiny, hoellenwauwau (did you disappear?), Esmerelda Diana Parker, the anomalous, emmylouwho, ellie199620, Xx smiley90 xX, Ladycrafter, MissGracieKathy, JetBecker, Ms Kitty Black, LoisLane1986, Doctor98614, Elliesmile, WhenTheWindStandsFair, BlackBulletButterfly, PrawnCrackers, Obsure Soul (did I lose you too?), WinteryGrave, Cengiz, MouseyJayne, Highfive, Primevalfan32, PhoebeDreams, EmmaL94, lilnicki23, drogers89, Aramantha, Random (my anonymous reviewer), Maegan and pinkcat4569  
><strong>

**Of course, thanks must also go to Tim Haines and Adrian Hodges for their amazing concept and to ITV, Impossible Pictures and Watch for bringing it all to us, the fans, and for not sueing us for borrowing their characters so blatantly. And, most of all, to Ben Mansfield, for allowing me to subject him to some fairly hideous stuff and still look damn bloody gorgeous! :D  
><strong>

**Lastly, I have no idea what I am going to do now this story is over. I'm actually feeling quite lost without it...must be time for another rum & coke! :D :D :D :D :D**


	32. The Epilogue

**A/N Sorry - just couldn't resist teasing you a little bit more... :D :D :D :D :D**

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><p>Lester woke up reluctantly that morning. It was one of the more unpleasant tasks that resulted from working at the ARC. The number of funerals he had had to attend had tripled in the last five years. Before, in that happy time before anomalies and Professor Cutter, he had only had to attend the funerals of relatives. Anything work related and he had always been able to excuse himself from it, either by being downright rude or by using his own self inflated level of personal importance and frankly having something better to do.<p>

Since being Head of the ARC, however, there was no getting out of it. He was the boss and as such responsible for the lives of all the men and women who worked for him. It was his duty to attend such occasions and offer respectful condolences to the families of those who didn't make it.

He sighed heavily as he failed to straighten his tie for the umpteenth time. He glared at it menacingly in the mirror as if that would scare it into obedience. Fine! He would just have Jess sort it out for him at the office. Wandering nonchalantly down the stairs of his expensive London home, kissing his wife's cheek and muttering something about being late home, he finally made it outside to his beloved Jaguar. As he slid into the driver's seat, the leather squeaking reassuringly, he caressed the steering wheel with his fingers and sighed in contentment. This car was the best investment he had ever made. Whatever madness ensued at work, such as men from the future or that damned convergence thing, he knew he could just sit contently in his Jaguar and regain his equilibrium. He loved its feel, he loved its smell, but most of all he loved how expensive it was. And how, no matter how bloody clever they were, none of his staff would ever be able to afford one. He frowned. Well, maybe Becker, but that was family money so that didn't count!

Lester started the engine and took a moment to revel in its purr. Smiling smugly he pulled out of his driveway and into the rush hour traffic, knowing it would take him a good forty five minutes to get to work. Ahhhh, an entire three quarters of an hour to spend with his baby. Today may not be such a bad day after all.

As he changed lanes, he glanced in his rear view mirror and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his heart rate increased substantially. The last time he had that sensation was when he was being stalked by the future predator for the first time, unleashed on him by Leek. He frowned, his senses on alert. But he saw nothing unusual in the mirror. The next time he looked in his mirror the feeling was gone, his heart rate had returned to normal and he shook his head, thinking himself ridiculous. This was clearly just a delayed reaction to the events of the past few months. As if rips in time, dinosaurs, men from the future and scientists unwittingly nearly destroying the world wasn't enough, he'd had to contend with terrorists, MI6 and the Metropolitan Police to boot. Yes, it was all in a day's work at the ARC.

As he pulled into the ARC car park finally, he turned off the engine and glanced once more in his rear view mirror. Although his eyes detected nothing out of the ordinary, the strange fight or flight instinct returned and he huffed at his inability to shake it.

The funeral service that afternoon had been difficult. However, it was to say goodbye to Captain John Hutchens, a man Lester had only known for a short time, but who had stepped into Captain Becker's shoes with integrity, courage and audacity, considering the hard time the teams had given him on his arrival. He had borne it all with a fortitude that Lester had admired. And the fact that he had given his life to save the men from the deaths the terrorists had planned for them made him worthy of Lester's unswerving regard, a feat few accomplished.

Lester felt it his duty to attend the family wake, once his presence was requested by Hutchens' widow. He gave the rest of the ARC teams the afternoon off and knew they would spend it in the pub giving the Captain a good send off. It would leave the ARC understaffed but he was more than hoping to receive an emergency phone call so he could excuse himself legitimately from the wake. He watched with interest as Captain Becker and Jess Parker sequestered themselves from the others and departed together in an ARC SUV. Lester managed a half smile, more of a smirk really. He had observed those two dancing around each other for the last two years. It was not just a little crazy that it had taken a terrorist plot to push them together. Although, he did wonder why the ARC had become such a hotbed of love over the last two years. First Abby and Connor, then Matt and Emily, and now Becker and Jess. He really must check the water filtering system on his return to the office.

Unfortunately, despite a half deserted ARC, no emergency calls came and Lester found himself unable to excuse himself from the family's wake until past six o'clock. Sliding back into his Jaguar again, Lester found a moment of peace by breathing in the new car smell the vehicle still retained. Fresh leather and wood polish, it was divine! He decided to check in on the ARC, just in case he needed to oversee some repair or other, or sign a report or - oh, who was he kidding? He could murder a whisky!

Once again he pulled the car out into London traffic. It was busy, rush hour again, but as he turned left down a small side street trying to avoid the bulk of it, the strange feeling returned. His eyes flicked around him nervously as he glanced into his rear view mirror. Nothing there, except three other cars, all innocently driving round the traffic, same as him. He turned right and as he did so he caught a movement in his peripheral vision, a reflection in the rear view mirror. He deliberately turned left at the next road and kept his eye on the mirror. Yes, there it was again. The blue vehicle, three cars behind him, was taking the same route as him. Nothing unusual about that, he thought, shaking his head, disbelievingly. But, all the same, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was following him. His eyes could see the car, his brain was registering that there was something odd about the way it was moving, but he wasn't connecting the dots.

He turned left again, slowly and deliberately, watching his mirror carefully. But this time, the car turned right and was replaced by a red Audi. He shook his head and pursed his lips as he berated himself at his stupidity. Of course he wasn't being followed! The last few months had clearly messed with his head.

He pulled into the ARC car park and observed the red Audi continue on its journey. He was still shaking his head as he walked into the lift up to the Ops Room. Nothing appeared to be amiss, repair work was still continuing and Alice Harper, the senior technician who had agreed to remain behind and supervise in Lester's absence, reported nothing out of the ordinary.

Sighing with relief, and still a little jumpy after his odd experience in the car, Lester sauntered into his office in search of his decanter of whisky. He rummaged in his drawer, retrieving the beverage and a cut glass tumbler before settling down in his chair to enjoy it. He leaned back as he took the first sip and closed his eyes as the hot liquid worked its magic, removing all the troubles of the day with its warmth. Feeling better, he sat forward and stared at the mass of paperwork on his desk. That was the worst thing about the damn terrorists - the amount of bloody paperwork they created! One piece of paper caught his eye. It was blank except for a message scrawled in black marker pen. His hand shook as he held it, standing up slowly and shouting for Jess. Getting no response, he glanced out of his office towards the ADD then remembered he'd given everyone the afternoon off and mentally cursed himself.

He looked down at the message again and took a very large gulp of whisky. They were going to have to tighten up security ten fold around here. Somehow, they had got in, without anyone on the skeleton staff noticing. Becker and Jess would need to set up CCTV cameras in places no-one had ever needed CCTV. And motion detectors. And retinal scanners. And alarms, lots and lots of alarms. Walking out into the Ops Room, he surveyed his domain, the building and people and secrets he was sworn to protect. The message had fallen from his hand to the office floor but was a reminder that the nightmare was not yet over.

**REMEMBER - WE ARE WATCHING YOU.**

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><p><strong>AN Just what are MI6 up to, I hear you scream...!**

**(Please review with ideas! LOL) :D :D :D :D :D  
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